


A Trick of Eros

by Dreamwind



Series: The Heart of Wadj Wer [1]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Cultural Differences, Alien Gender/Sexuality, Alien penis, Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bottom Jim, Bottom Kirk, Canon Related, Domestic Violence, F/M, Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, First Time, Genderbending, Intersexuality, Kid Fic, M/M, Mpreg, Novella, Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash, Pregnancy, Riverside Iowa, Romance, Teen Pregnancy, Teen Romance, Top Spock, Unplanned Pregnancy, Violence, Vulcan Biology, Vulcan Culture, Vulcan Language, Weird Biology, Weird Sciece
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-05-11
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2017-10-19 07:07:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 74,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/198234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamwind/pseuds/Dreamwind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Part 1 of The Heart of Wadj Wer Series] Basically the prompt is that teenage Jim has somehow become a girl, and while a girl he meets Spock and the two get intimate. Which of course leads to Jim becoming pregnant. So this is the story of Jim and Spock’s first meeting and the miracle that sprung from it.</p><p>** Under Re-Write**</p><p>To read the original version please visit my livejournal.  http://dreamwind83.livejournal.com</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**May 2248 - Day 1; Riverside High School, Iowa**

No one was quite sure how it happened, only that it had. Out of the thirty-two students in the chemistry class seven had been hit by the exploding experiment, and by the next morning all of them had been changed…

The seven students had all freaked out, of course, upon waking and seeing the changes that had happened to their bodies overnight. All considered, Jim thought he was handling it pretty good. Better than some of the others were. Janey Kelpmann was sitting on the floor sobbing, Andrea Nakamura hovering at her side trying to calm her down. Jim was standing with the others just a couple feet away, in a small cluster, trying not to watch their parents yelling at the Principal and the Chemistry Teacher, Mr. Bodeck. The parents had cornered the two at the other side of the room and were not exactly being quiet or calm about what had happened to their children.

Jim tried not to notice that his step-father Frank, was the most violent in tone of voice and movement, out of all the parents. Jim knew it wasn’t anger on his behalf, it was anger of Frank’s for having such a “freak” for a stepson. Jim glared over Scott Freedman’s shoulder at the back of his step-father’s flannel covered shoulders. This wasn’t Jim’s fault! Hell, none of them were at fault. The chemicals they used must have been tampered with. None of them would have willingly subjected themselves to this, let alone Scott, the schools star running back.

Jim looked away from his step-father, and glanced again at his fellow classmates. It was still just too weird. It really was like something out of an old 20th century sci-fi. Actually, Jim was sure there had been a famous Sci-fi novel like this.

Scott patted Jim’s shoulder in commiserating misery at the situation they found themselves in. Jim wouldn’t risk saying it to Scott’s face, but Scott was looking pretty smokin’ at the moment. He was still tall and all long limbs and tempting curves, his skin still smooth and rich as dark chocolate. Jim was sure Scott had turned out looking the best out of all of them. Of course Jim knew he looked pretty fine. Very few people could turn away from a tall, leggy blond with eyes as blue as his. Poor Janey hadn’t faired as well, still short and slightly pudgy, her eyes red and swollen from crying. She was cute, in a girl-next-door kinda way, normally. It was just, she really didn’t suite herself, the way she looked right now.

Jim was thrust from his thoughts by the iron grip of his step-father’s hand on his upper arm. Silently Jim cursed the man. He could already feel the bruise forming were his step-father’s fingers were digging in.

“Come on, _boy_. I ain’t letting you show off this freakish body in public,” Frank’s voice came out as a low gravely growl.

Jim tried not to flinch, but it was as if every nerve ending in his body was on overload after the sudden change it had undergone.

“I ain’t watching no freak like you anymore. You were trouble enough before. I ain’t putting up with the likes of you now that you’ve gone an’ become some kind of freaky pervert.” Frank sneered at him, yanking on Jim’s arm almost hard enough to dislocate it. “I shoulda known that nothin’ good would come of havin’ you around. Your Mom shoulda drowned you after your Dad died. She shoulda known it was a sign of how horrible and freakish you were gonna be, if your Dad had to go and kill himself just so he didn’ have to see you be born.”

Jim didn’t say anything, just hunched deeper into himself. Drawing his mental walls high and tight, trying to defend himself from the hurtful words. He couldn’t say anything. Saying something back would only piss Frank off more, and secretly some part of himself had begun to agree with Frank’s assessment of him years before. One could only listen to it and live through Jim’s life before hurtful words became soul deep festering wounds.

In a subdued manner, Jim allowed his step-father to drag him out of the front doors of the High School and to the parking lot and the waiting battered red truck. The ride back to the Kirk family farmhouse was filled with a long, oppressive silence. Of course most of Jim’s life was one big stretch of long, oppressive silence. Ever sense he was five and first realized his mother didn’t see him when she looked at him. All she saw was the ghost of a dead man. Her dead husband. It had driven a wedge between them and by the time he was seven his Mother had rejoined Starfleet to escape his presence and the ghost of George Kirk. Jim however, couldn’t escape George Kirk.

It wasn’t just his Mom and him who saw the ghost of George Kirk looking out from little Jim’s eyes. His brother Sam saw it too, and it left his eyes hard and sharp when they turned in Jim’s direction. Sam never forgave him for their Mom abandoning him to their new stepfather, Frank, and a house full of ghosts. It had left Jim trapped in the old farmhouse with a stepfather who loathed him for running his new wife off, and for being smarter than Frank and Sam could ever hope to be. Jim knew he was smart, smarter than Frank, smarter than Sam, and smarter than his classmates and teachers. Jim was just too smart for any of them to keep up with and that on top of everything else only seemed to make them hate him even more. Eventually Sam, like their Mom, had abandoned Jim as well. Left Jim to a man who hated him, who hit him and brow beat him. He _left_ Jim _._

So Jim had watched his brother leave, watched him walk off into the distance, Frank yelling at Sam’s fleeing back and some tiny hopeful part of Jim died.

Jim had stood there and turned like a machine and followed Frank’s shrill voice. He bowed his head and went to his Dad’s, to George Kirk’s car, the car Frank claimed as his, and stared. The car…the car that was as much a symbol of the ghost of George Kirk as Jim was, the car that was a visible source of Frank’s rage, stared back and Jim felt that dead piece of his soul crumble. Before he had known it he had jumped behind the wheel and sped off down the dirt roads, past his brother, past Riverside, past himself, until all that was behind him and only the open, gaping maw of the quarry and death’s waiting arms was ahead of him.

He had survived the rush of the car down the road, he had survived driving it off the edge of the quarry, he had survived that first rush of suicidal anger. He had survived Frank pressing charges, he had survived his Mother not caring enough to come home or even call, and he had survived being shipped off to Tarsus IV.

 _'If I could survive that,'_ he told himself, _'I can survive this little fuck-up in the path of life.'_

Frank didn’t say anything to Jim as he parked the car and stormed into the house. He just made a be-line for the phone in the kitchen. Jim closed the door behind him and headed up to his room, his mind still lost in painful thoughts of the past. He dropped his backpack on the floor and flopped down on the bottom bunk of the bunk-bed. Even with his door closed he could hear Franks heavy footsteps on the floor below and the sound of his voice screaming at Winona Kirk over the vidphone in the kitchen. Jim couldn't hear his. Mother's voice, but there was no mistaking the shrill, ear-bleeding sound of Frank's rage, even through the flooring and closed doors that separated Jim's room on the upper level and the kitchen on the floor below.

Long empty minutes passed where the only sound was Frank and Winona screaming at each other. Finally the screaming stopped. The sound of Frank’s heavy footsteps heading up the stairs and down the hall reverberated in Jim’s head. He closed his eyes and tried to work out why his life sucked so much, purposely ignoring the loud sounds of slamming drawers and cursing coming from Frank’s room across the hall. Too soon though, the sound of Franks angry footsteps leaving the master bedroom to cross the hall to Jim’s room filled the silence. The door to his room was flung open with enough force for the doorknob to leave a hole in the wall.

Jim didn’t look away from the bottom of the upper bunk.

Frank glared from the doorway. “You’re on your own now, genius. I ain’t staying here to watch you anymore,” Frank turned to leave, stopping just out of sight he called back, “She ain’t coming back for you, boy.”

Jim clenched his eyes closed even tighter. He knew she wasn’t. She hadn’t before and she never would. He had understood that long before Frank or Sam had. She didn’t need him and he didn’t need her. Hadn’t needed her for years.

Franks footsteps faded as did the sound of tires on the dirt driver. Frank had left and Jim was now truly, physically alone. It changed nothing.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

After Frank had left Jim had slept. When he woke the sun was low in the sky and his stomach was growling voraciously. Getting up Jim headed down the stairs. The house had cooled down some. Flicking the buttons on the heating system he busted the temperature up to 72 degrees. Yawning he wandered through the hall, into the kitchen and out the back into the yard. The stars were just starting to appear in the darker areas of the sky and crickets had already started the sing.

It would be a beautiful night, he could already tell.

“Betsy,” Jim called out, voice gentle and coaxing.

A long, low moo echoed from the small pasture by the barn. Making his way through the grass, Jim headed towards Betsy the cow. Jim couldn’t help but smile as he hopped the fence to the pasture. Betsy was slowly making her way to him, stopping occasionally to eat some grass.

“Come on girl, time to get you in the barn.”

Betsy followed him through the yard and into the barn. Already she was pushing past him, eager to get into the warm, dry barn and be milked.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Same Time, Road Outside Riverside, Iowa**

Amanda tried desperately not to curse, scream or pull her hair. She had convinced her husband it would be a good idea to take some time and drive around the US while they were on Earth. _‘And look what happens! The rental hovercraft dies in the middle of nowhere!’_

“Perhaps it would be best if we followed this road to the nearest town, Mother.”

Amanda looked at her son and husband, both calmly standing with their hands behind their backs. Although they didn’t show it, she was sure they were both quite cold. They shouldn’t be to far from Riverside, so it was likely the best option to just walk and hope they came across someone.

“Yes, perhaps you’re right.” Amanda smiled at her son. “We are in prime farming land, so perhaps we will find someone home before we came to the city.”

“Of course, Mother.”

The three of them were likely an odd sight to see walking down a deserted road. She would laugh if the increasing cold wasn’t a danger to the health of her husband and son.

Nearly an hour had passed before she spotted lights in the distance. A farm house.

Amanda picked up her pace, hurrying up the dirt road towards the house. The sun was just beginning to sink below smartly on the door, calling out, “Hello? Is anyone home?”

No voice answered back and nothing moved inside the house.

“Someone should be home,” Amanda muttered.

“Perhaps they are in that building,” Spock said, pointing across the yard to the old wooden barn, where a soft yellow light could be seen peaking out from under the door.

“Yes, that is a good idea, Spock. Perhaps they are just in the barn.” Amanda moved around her son and followed the porch along the side of the house to another set of steps dropping off in the yard directly across from the barn.

It was a short walk to the barn and Amanda couldn’t help but notice that there were places on both the house and barn that looked to have had a recent patch job. There were even more spots that looked like they were still waiting to be fixed. _‘Perhaps,’_ Amanda though, _‘It is a fixer-upper?’_

Amanda gently slide the smaller barn door open, stepping into the warm glow of the lights. She noticed fresh bailed hay in one corner across from a couple empty stalls. There were several more stalls along the same wall as the hay bails. The doors of the stalls were closed and more supplies could just be seen inside the stalls through the open upper hatches in the stall doors. As she peered into the stalls the soft sound of someone humming became clearer. She continued further into the barn and realized that the humming was coming from the stall directly next to the bails of hay.

Amanda approached quietly, enjoying the soft sound of the hummed song. Inside the stall was a teenage boy, his hair a rich honey blond, cropped short and slightly messy. He was dressed in a pair of worn, faded jeans and a blue sweatshirt, sleeves drawn up to his elbows. His face was hidden from view as he leaned in towards the cows side as he steadily milked the animal.

“If I might inquire –“ Spock’s soft voice was loud in the near silence, but still startled the boy into falling off his stool.

Blinking wide blue eyes, the boy stared up at them.

“Jeeesus! You startled me.”

Spock blinked owlishly at the human youth. “That was not my intention.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the boy sighed and stood up, brushing straw from the back of his legs. “Can I help you?”

Amanda smiled, “Our car broke down up the road a ways. Would you mind, terribly, if we used your phone to call for a tow?”

“Go ahead, but they won’t come for it until the morning.” The boy patted the cow's side and looked them over.

“Really,” sighed Amanda, her hopes of salvaging their family vacation dwindling.

“Yeah. Phil Blockman has been the town drunk since his wife died. By this time of night he’s likely ten sheets to the wind.” The boy reached down and lifted the metal pail full of warm milk and moved to exit the stall, latching it securely behind him. “You can stay here tonight if you’d like.”

“It won’t be any trouble?”

“Nah,” the boy waved it off. “It'll be nice to have some company.”

Amanda looked at the boy startled. “Are you here alone?”

“Yeah.” The boy shrugged and moved past Spock and Sarek towards the door in the back wall. The door opened, blasting them with a chilling air. The boy stepped inside, ignoring the cold and poured the milk into the machine filling the room. He quickly set the empty pail down and began flipping a few switches, stetting the machine in motion. “This’ll just take a sec,” he called out to them.

Sure enough a moment later the boy stepped out of the room, closing the door. In one hand was an old fashioned glass bottle full of milk, in the other was the now empty pail. The boy set the pail down next to the cows stall before turning back to them. “Alright, let’s get you guys inside.” He looked over Spock and Sarek again. “They’re starting to look like popsicles.”

The boy checked the latch on the stall one last time before turning and waving them to follow him out of the barn.

He flipped the lights down low and ushered them out the barn door. The doors creaked slightly as he closed them and suddenly they found themselves in the dark of night with only the light of the stars and the soft glow of the lights shinning through the farmhouse windows.

“My name’s Jim, by the way.”

Amanda looked away from the stars and back to Jim. “I’m Amanda, this is my husband Sarek and our son, Spock.”

Jim nodded politely to the two Vulcans. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

It didn’t take long before they had once again crossed the yard to the house. Jim lead them up onto the porch and to the back door opening into a warmly lit kitchen. Amanda paused to take in the sight of a human kitchen, a sight that brought back many memories of her childhood home.

Jim moved to the fridge, placing the bottle of milk inside. “Are you lot hungry? There’s some chicken pot pie left over from dinner yesterday.”

Sarek turned to look at the boy, not much younger than his son. “Vulcan’s do not consume meat.”

Jim turned from the fridge and began to open cupboards, looking through them. “I can find something without meat if you’d like? I have a bunch of fresh vegetables from the garden?”

“That is quite alright. I do not require sustenance at this time,” Sarek’s voice was even and soft. Jim looked over at Spock, who merely nodded his agreement.

“Ok,” Jim looked over to Amanda, “Would you like anything ma’am?”

“Would you happen to have some tea?”

“Yeah.” Jim moved to the counter under the shelves, pulling out a large metal tin from beside the toaster. “Is Huckleberry Tea okay?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

Jim turned away from them and went about preparing the tea. Amanda sat down at the kitchen table, Sarek and Spock quietly joining her in watching the youth moving about. She could see a hint of fascination in Spock's eyes as he watched Jim pull out an old metal kettle, filling it with purified water from the tap.

“You and Mr. Sarek can have the guest room her on the ground floor for the night," Jim calmly stated as he set the kettle on the stove, turning the knobs to start the burner. "Spock can have my brother’s bed.”

Amanda smiled gently as Jim leaned against the counter across from the stove. “Where are the rest of your family, Jim?”

Jim grimaced and turned away, using the need to gather a couple if the china tea cups from the counter to delay his answer. After a long moment of silence broken only by the light clatter of china and the shrill whistle of the kettle, Jim finally turned to face them again, setting a cup down in front of Sarek, Spock, and herself. “Mom’s off in space somewhere with Starfleet, has been for years now." Pulling the kettle off the stove Jim moved back to the table to sit in the empty chair beside Spock. "I don’t know where my older brother is, he ran away awhile back.”

Amanda did her best to hide the wince that wanted to take her over as Jim mixed the fragrant smelling tea into the kettle to steep. “And your father? Surely he’s here somewhere.”

Jim’s face shut down all at once, all emotion vanishing until Amanda was sure she was looking at a Vulcan and not a human boy.

“He died the day I was born.”

Amanda’s hand covered her mouth and the small gasp that escaped her. “God, Jim! I’m sorry.”

Jim looked away and shrugged. “It’s okay. You can’t miss what you never had.” Jim stood and turned to leave the kitchen. “I’ll go get your rooms ready for you.”

Amanda just nodded, unsure how to react to the disturbing news of this nice young man’s family life.

“Do you require assistance?”

Amanda nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of Spock's voice. She turned to look at her son, who had stood up from the table and was now watching Jim with a blank expression that Amanda knew was hiding his worry for the other boy. Her Spock had always been sensitive to the emotions of others despite his, and his father's, often times over-the-top need to be even more Vulcan than his peers.

Jim seemed to blink for a moment, startled, before a small smile slide across his features. “Sure. That’d be nice.”

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Spock followed Jim up the stairs. The hallway was narrow and the walls were lined with numerous framed images of people who must have been family or ancestors of Jim’s family. Many had similar physical traits as Jim did. As they reached the top of the stairs and the landing spread into a wider hallway, part of which turned backwards towards the other half of the house, Spock noticed one photo of a blond woman holding a baby, a blond haired man who looked a great deal like Jim, standing at her shoulder. There was another similar picture next to it, where the baby was now a small child standing next to his sitting Mother, whose belly was heavy with child. The blond man was there again, this time smiling down at his wife and child. This picture was the last on the wall and Spock was left wondering why another picture showing baby Jim was not there. In fact, Spock realized very quickly, there were no pictures anywhere on the wall that he could see Jim in.

“I remind her too much of my Dad.”

Spock turned to look at Jim, who was looking at that last photo of the seemingly happy family, his blue eyes dark with some emotion that Spock didn’t understand.

“That’s why I’m not in the pictures. You were wondering, right?”

Spock inclined his head towards Jim.

“She doesn’t see me when she looks at me. She sees him and everything that could have been,” the words were soft. Too soft for a human to have heard. Spock was sure Jim had not meant for him to hear.

Jim turned away from the picture and went down the hall, entering the room on the left side. Spock followed Jim into the room, taking in the unfamiliar atmosphere of a human bedroom. The room was small, but not as horribly cramped as the room on the space transport had been. To the left of the doorway was a wall with two other doors. Across from the doorway he stood in was a large window looking out into the yard. Beneath the window was an old wooden desk, it’s surface cracked and worn in places. To the left of the desk was a wooden bookshelf filled to overflowing with paperback books, some of which he noticed looked to have been written by authors who were not human. To the right of the desk, against the wall, was a set of bunk beds, the heads of which rested against the wall next to the window. Spock was not overly surprised that the beds were both neatly made, although the bottom bunk was slightly rumpled as if someone had been laying on top of the blankets.

As Spock took it all in, Jim moved through the room, nervously straightening anything that might be slightly out of place.

“This is your sleeping quarter,” inquired Spock.

“Yeah,” Jim gave Spock a small smile. “Would you rather have the top or bottom bunk?”

“I do not have a preference.”

“Okaaay,” Jim looked at Spock and then back to the bed, “You can have the bottom, that way if you get up in the night you aren’t likely to fall out of the bed.” Jim moved over to the bed and began to pull off the blankets and sheets. “Would you mind getting the blue sheets out of the hallway closet for me?”

“Affirmative, Jim. I will gather them.”

Spock stepped out of the room. There was a door directly across the hall, most likely another bedroom. There was another door to his left, at the very end of the hall. As the door was too skinny to lead into another room, Spock surmised that it was logical that it was the hallway closet Jim had mentioned.

Sure enough, upon opening it Spock was greeted with the sight of several shelves full of household linens and towels. Carefully shifting the linens he located the blue sheets Jim had requested. Spock quietly removed them from the pile and closed the door. As he re-entered the bedroom he noted that Jim had already stripped the bed of it’s previous linens, which were piled up next to the desk. The clean blankets were folded and sitting on the desk top.

Jim thanked him and the two of them set about making up the bed. Jim seemed worried that there weren’t enough blankets and kept asking Spock if he was sure this amount would keep him warm enough. Spock found himself repeatedly stating that he would be at an acceptable temperature and if that ended up being incorrect he would simply request another blanket at that time. Jim had sighed, but relented. Altogether, it took approximately seven minutes and thirty-four seconds.

Jim gathered up the dirty linens and carried them into a bathroom that was behind one of the two doors on the bedrooms left wall. Looking through the doorway Spock noted the bathroom was as clean and orderly as the bedroom had been. The tiles were a mixture of cream and blue tones. He thought the cream tones more a product of age rather than a design choice. There was a white ceramic sink with a tan whicker basket between it and the wall. It was this basket in which Jim placed the linen.

“Okay, we have you all set. Now the guest room downstairs already has clean sheets, but we should get them some towels.” Jim gave Spock a smile. “Do you think they would rather stay downstairs, it only has a half-bath? I mean I could clean up the Master,” Jim waved his hand at the doorway across the hall, “If they would rather be near you?”

“I do not know their preference. Although, either room would be acceptable as a sleep space.”

“Okay.” Jim moved across the hall and looked into the Master bedroom. “Frank left it a pretty big mess, so maybe the guest room would be best. It’ll take to long to clean it.”

“That would be acceptable. Mother would object to you going out of your way for us if there is already an acceptable space available.”

Jim just looked Spock over, shaking his head. He’d never met anyone who used the word ‘acceptable’ so often, not that Spock really seemed to talk all that much. Still, it was kind of cute.

“Jim, might I inquire as to who Frank is?”

Jim froze, the muscles along his shoulders tightening. “Frank is…was my step-dad.” Jim left the bedroom and quickly moved to the hall closet, grabbing a couple of towels. Without looking at Spock, Jim turned and headed back down the stairs. “All of you can use the shower in my bathroom for now.”

Spock, trailing behind, placed his hand lightly on Jim’s shoulder. “My query has upset you. I meant no insult.”

Jim closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, before turning to look at Spock. “It’s okay, Spock. You didn’t insult me. Frank and I…we just don’t get along.”

Spock nodded slowly. “Very well. I shall refrain from mentioning him again.”

Jim gave a soft chuckle and gave Spock’s hand a gentle squeeze. His smile warmer, Jim turned and headed back down the stairs.

Spock found himself momentarily frozen, his gaze locked on the hand Jim had touched. His skin felt super heated, a thrilling electric tingle shooting through his body. Jim had felt…he had felt perfect.

Spock looked back down the stairs and noticed Jim had stopped again and seemed to be working some primitive wall panel. There was a sudden metallic thump followed by a short while before quiet resumed. Spock moved to catch up with Jim as he moved away from the panel and back to the kitchen.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

“I’ve got the heat pushed up to 85 degrees,” Jim said looking carefully at Sarek never quiet meeting his eyes. “Will that be warm enough?”

Sarek watched the young human for a moment before nodding. “That will be acceptable.”

“Ok.” For a moment Jim seemed a bit uncertain. It was brief though and Spock began to wonder if it hadn’t just been a figment of his human half’s imagination.

“The guest room on this floor is clean and ready for you. If you’d like a hot shower I have some clean towels and you are welcome to use the shower attached to my room.”

“That would be lovely, thank you.” Amanda smiled up at Jim, setting her cup back down.

Jim shrugged and smiled at Amanda. “If you leave your cloths out I the hall I can wash and dry them for you. I can leave some clean pajamas in the bathroom for you as well if you'd like?”

“You’re very kind.”

“It’s no problem, Ma’am.”

Amanda stood and went to pick up the empty tea cups. Jim’s hand softly touching hers halted her movement.

“Don’t worry about those. You’re a guest, I can take care of that.”

Amanda found herself smiling again. There was something about this young man, something that left her smiling and feeling very…Motherly. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he didn’t seem to have any family, or perhaps it was the almost shy kindness he was showing. There was nothing forced about it, it was simply as if he couldn’t understand why he shouldn’t allow them to come into his house when he didn’t know them from Adam. “Thank you, Jim.” Amanda smiled and patted the boys hand. “You mentioned a warm shower.”

“Yeah. I’ll show you the way.”

Sarek stood, the move slow but graceful. His hand reached out towards Amanda, two fingers extended. Jim removed his hand from her arm and watched as Amanda met Sarek’s two fingers with two of her own. A soft smile spread across her face as their fingers touched.

There was something almost breath taking about the sight. God, but Jim wanted that. He wanted someone, anyone, to look at him like that. Like he was their sun, their world, their heart. He wanted that look of unconditional love bestowed upon him, even just once.

Jim turned away from the almost intimate sight of the two and turned to lead them out of the kitchen, past the stairs and towards the front of the house. He stopped at the second door on the left side of the hall and looked at the three strangers. “This is the guest room and the half bath is just over there across the hall. I’ll leave a small light on inside the bathroom for you tonight.”

Sarek and Amanda nodded and stepped into the room. Sarek set down the travel case he had been carrying with him while Amanda took in the room.

It was fairly large for a guest room. The floors, although slightly worn, were still hardwood and the walls looked to have been recently painted a soft buttery yellow. There was a large window looking out at the front yard. The bed was an old brass queen covered in pillows and a handmade patchwork quilt. Overall it was very home-y.

“I can get you some extra blankets if you need.”

“That’s quite alright. I am sure we’ll be alright.” Amanda turned to smile at Jim and couldn’t help but smile wider at the sight of her son standing at Jim’s side. It was strange but looking at them next to each other, it was like they belonged there.

There was a wide, pleased smile on Jim’s face. “I’ll show you upstairs. The only clean shower is the one attached to my room.” Here Jim winced slightly. “It’ll take maybe twenty minutes to get the shower in the other room clean.”

Amanda patted his shoulder as she stepped past him, out of the room. “That’s alright. We can take turns.”

Jim gave her a small smile and lead them upstairs and into his room. Like Spock had, Amanda found herself looking at the photos and becoming upset that Jim was not in any of them as anything more than a bump in his Mother’s belly. Jim’s room was clean and as neat as her own sons, Amanda was pleased to note.

Jim set the towels on the lid of the hamper in the bathrooms and stepped back out of the room. “I can get you one of my Mother’s nightgowns, and if you don’t mind Mr. Sarek, you can use some of my winter pajamas.”

Sarek gave Jim a small nod and watched as the human boy moved around his son to get into a set of drawers at the far side of the room. Jim pulled open the bottom drawer and took out two pairs of flannel pajamas. A dark blue set was placed on the bottom bunk of the bed and the second pair, a rich forest green, was brought to Sarek.

“These are the longest ones I have. Don’t know how well they’ll fit though.”

Sarek nodded in response and watched the boy quickly disappear into the hallway. Amanda’s voice had Sarek turning to face her.

“He seems like a nice boy. It worries me though that he doesn’t have any family here with him.”

“Indeed,” Sarek replied, voice even. It was a worrying fact. Jim did not appear to be an adult yet by human standards and as such should still be under his parents care. Sarek may not have said anything but he too had noticed all the little signs pointing to this not being a healthy, functioning family. It would be logical to inform a figure of authority that Jim had been abandoned, so that the boy could receive the proper care.

Amanda smiled, “Why don’t you take the first shower and I’ll go next. Spock can take one once we’re done.”

“That is acceptable.”

“I hope these’ll fit you okay, Ma’am,” said Jim as he came back into he room. “My Mother didn’t exactly leave a big selection here.”

“I’m sure they will be fine.”

“Right, well…I’ll just be downstairs if you need me.” Jim turned and grabbed a backpack from the floor by the door and headed back downstairs.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**May 2248 - Day 1; 1 hour later, Kirk Farm**

Jim had moved into the larger living room at the front of the house. It was probably his favorite room as Frank never used it and his Mother couldn’t bear to be inside it. Frank avoided it because the room was more of a library than a living room, and his Mother . . . his Mother didn’t like it because it had been his Father’s and was as much a painful reminder of the man and his death as Jim, himself, was. As such Jim had been able to use the room uninterrupted and alone, since Sam had left. Although, even when Sam was here, he rarely went into the room if Jim was already in it.

There was an old fashioned stone fireplace on the wall that was now sporting a warm wood fire. The fire wasn’t really needed considering how high the thermostat was set, but Jim liked the way the light from the fire cast shadows around the room. The glow was flickering, dancing over the rug and across the leather couch and wingback chair, up the bookshelves lining the walls and across Jim’s seated figure. There was something soothing and almost hypnotic about it. It was soothing, so he could ignore the way it made him all sweaty.

Jim was sitting sideways, legs over the arm of the wingback chair. His head was tilted to rest on the back of the chair as he read through the PADD in his hand. It wasn’t homework per se, just some stuff one of his teachers had gotten for him from a contact in the V.S.A. It was far more challenging, intriguing and just all around mentally stimulating than what they were teaching at school. His teacher had noticed how bored he was and instead of leaving Jim to do as he pleased he tried to find ways to keep Jim interested and in school. It was less trouble to find ways to keep Jim interested than to leave him to himself, where he might cause some form of property damage. He also found it ironic that his teacher had given him a PADD full of Vulcan teaching lessons on the same day that a Vulcan family arrived on his doorstep. If he believed in fate it might have worried him.

“May I inquire as to what you are reading?”

Jim nearly jumped out of his skin at the soft sound of Spock’s voice. “Shit! Don’t sneak around like that.” Jim’s free hand clutched the armrest. “Damn near gave me a heart attack.”

“I did not intend to, as you say, ‘sneak around’.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jim waved at him and relaxed back into his chair. “Just try to make a little noise when you move.”

Spock inclined his head towards Jim and moved further into the room. The light of the fire danced across the planes of his face, catching and seeming to ignite in his eyes. It left Jim breathless, his body feeling as if it would ignite along with the flames in Spock’s eyes. Jim knew he was staring but couldn’t help it. Spock had to be the single most attractive man he had ever seen.

“—are you well?”

“What?” Jim blinked.

“I inquired as to your state of health. You appear flushed and you appear to be breathing in fast, deep breaths.”

“Oh,” Jim blushed, even more embarrassed he had been caught. “No, I’m fine. Just a little warm.”

“Very well.”

Jim found himself in a rather strange position. He had never had to share this room with anyone before, especially not someone who made things low in his body clench and tingle. There was also the uncomfortable feel of his pants beginning to get wet from the arousal spreading through his body as he gazed at Spock like a man in the desert looking at an oasis.

 _'Shit.'_ He was so screwed.

Several more minutes passed as Jim simply watched Spock move through the room looking at the books. Jim was mildly surprised by the brief look of awe and respect that passed over Spock’s features as he read some of the titles and ran his fingers over some of the spines of the old 20th Century leather-bound books.

“You can read them if you want,” Jim said with a smile.

“These are all carbon printed,” the tiniest hint of awe came out.

“Yeah.” Jim stood, setting the PADD down on the chair. “Most of them have been in my Father’s family since the 20th Century. There’s even a few signed 1st editions.”

“They are all human novels?”

“All of them down here are. I have several upstairs written by other species though if you’d rather read one of them.”

“That is unnecessary. I have not read many works by humans.”

Jim moved to stand at Spock’s side, basking in the warmth radiating from the other’s body. “It’s not that surprising. Human works are very emotional, which is probably an uncomfortable read for a Vulcan.”

Spock nodded but didn’t say anything.

“If you really want to read something human I would suggest maybe Sherlock Holmes, unless you want something more fantastical? Otherwise Sherlock would be good, it is more logic oriented than many others in here.” Jim reached up pulling down a thick leather bound volume. "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the author, he was ahead of his times you know. They didn't have forensic science before he wrote the Sherlock Holmes novels."

Spock accepted the book, surprised by both the weight of the book and the electric tingle that shot through his hands to his groin as his fingers brushed Jim’s. "Fascinating." Spock had to push down the urge to jerk his hand away, even as he battled the desire to rub their fingers together.

“Of course if you want something else there are a large number of fantasy and sci-fi novels you could read?” Jim pointed to various sections on the bookshelves. “History, horror and mystery novels are over here as well.”

“This volume is acceptable.”

Jim nodded and for a moment the room was still and silent, save for the cracking sound of the wood burning in the fireplace. Jim licked suddenly dry lips, his eyes unable to move away from Spock. His groin was throbbing now and Jim was sure Spock could tell . . . surely Spock could tell. God, but a part of him wanted Spock to know!

“I –“ Jim was cut off by the sound of footsteps and low voices, heralding the approach of Spock’s parents.

Jim took a step back from Spock as his parents entered the room. He couldn’t help but rub his palms on his pant legs. This whole moment was too surreal. Having three other people in this room with him, lord but it was jarring on his senses. This had never happened before. He had always had this room to himself, except for when Sam was still here.

“The bath upstairs is free now, Spock.” Amanda stood at her husband’s side, smiling softly at her son and Jim.

“Thank you, Mother.” Spock nodded at Jim then turned and left the room, nodding at his parents as he passed. Jim tried not to smile too large at the realization that Spock was still holding the book of Sherlock Holmes stories.

“You have a lot of books here, Jim.”

Jim turned to look at Amanda, who like her son, was moving around the room, fingers trailing along the book spines. “I guess so. They aren't really mine though. Most were my Dad's and his families before him."

Amanda tossed him another smile, her eyes a little too shinny as she watched him. Jim hated it when people pitied him, but there was something about the woman that made it impossible to really hate her. There just didn't seem to be any malice in her.

“Like I told Spock, your welcome to read them as long as you’re here.”

“Thank you.” Amanda pulled a book off the shelf carefully thumbing through it. “Are there any here that you recommend?”

Jim shrugged. “Depends on what you want to read. There’s a bunch of cheesy romance novels my Grandmother was fond of if you want something simple and quick. There are quiet a few classics like ‘The Complete collection of H.G. Wells,’ ‘Hamlet,’ or ‘The Arabian Nights.’ There’s also books of poetry by authors like Lord Byron or Edgar Allen Poe. There are also all kinds of fantasy novels by authors like Mercedes Lackey, J.K. Rowling and R.A. Salvator. Or there are horror novels like ‘Dracula,’ or numerous books by Laurell K. Hamilton or Stephen King.” Jim smiled at the startled look on the older woman’s face.

“That is more than enough to pick from.”

“You sure,” Jim grinned even wider, “I have a good selection of sci-fi novels by S.M. Sterling or Ursela K. Ligune.”

Amanda laughed. “I think I’ll be fine with Lord Byron,” she said, patting the cover of a slim hardback.

“Okay then. Do you want to read in here? I can leave the fire going for you?”

“That is alright. I can read in bed, just fine.” Amanda moved closer to where Sarek stood by the wingback chair where Jim had been sitting.

Jim almost flinched as he realized that Mr. Sarek was reading the PADD that Jim had been given. Jim didn’t know how Mr. Sarek would take finding the Vulcan PADD here, Jim’s teacher had told him not to share it with others, so Jim was fairly sure that he wasn’t meant to have had it, let alone given it to Jim, even if it had been given to him by a member of the Vulcan Science Academy.

Sarek looked up from the PADD to Jim. “From whom did you receive this?”

Jim took a deep breath, stood straight and pushed his chest out. “An instructor at my high school arranged to obtain it from a friend of his who is part of the Vulcan Science Academy. My instructor thought that it would be more interesting for me than what the school teaches here.”

Sarek gave him a blank look, but Jim knew he didn’t believe him.

“You understand this material,” although there was no inflection to the words, Sarek’s skepticism was obvious.

“There’s nothing really too complex or hard to understand in that,” Jim shrugged. “It’s certainly more interesting and challenging than anything taught at Riverside High.”

“Fascinating.”

“Sarek, dear, give him back his PADD. We have all had a long day and I’m sure Jim would like to get ready for bed.”

Sarek nodded at his wife and gently placed the PADD back on the chair. With a quiet nod at Jim, Sarek stretched two fingers out to his wife, who met his fingers with two of her own. Fingers still touching the two of them left, heading back to the guest room.

Jim let out the breath he had been holding. He didn’t know what it was about the older Vulcan, but he left Jim feeling shaky as a newborn colt and yet Jim also felt the need to go all ‘alpha male.’ Was it because he was an adult male in Jim’s territory? Crap. This was so stupid. He was acting like the dumb jokes at school who had nothing better to do than run at each other over a stupid ball, risking traumatic brain injury.

Turning away from the empty doorway, Jim went about closing up the house. Locking doors and windows, shutting off lights in empty rooms. His normal routine even when Frank was here, because let's face it even when Frank was here he didn't help out around the farm. Jim was the only one to take care of the place since his Mother ran off to space and Sam disappeared to who knew where.

With a long sigh and a stretch, Jim stumbled back into the library where he had left his PADD. The fire was still going in the fireplace, casting just enough light to read by. It looked so enticing that he found himself in his favorite chair, reading Jules Vern before he even thought about going up to bed. Not that he wasn't tired. But he hadn't had to share a room with a stranger since Tarsus IV, and he didn't look forward to sharing his space again. So it wouldn't hurt to read a little. Heck it would give Spock time to shower and get into the bed before Jim went up, which would be all the better considering his current condition.

 

* ~ *~ * ~ *~ *

 

An hour later found Jim putting out the fire and straightening up any loose books. When still no sounds of his guest returning came, he grabbed the PADD, shoved it in his backpack and headed back upstairs to his room. 

As Jim entered his room he set down his backpack by the door and grabbed a clean pair of boxers and a shirt. Jim was hesitant to make much noise in case he woke Spock, but he kind of wanted a shower after the long day. Jim glanced at the bed, frustrated by the fact his eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the dark room and thus was unable to tell if Spock was awake. 

Deciding a shower could wait until tomorrow, Jim stripped out of his cloths, piling them on the floor by his dresser. Naked, the shock of this mornings revelation returned. He wasn’t really Jim Kirk, if anything he was a Jamie Kirk. It was so strange that it didn't seem real, but the pain he had felt this morning as his body changed had certainly been real enough. Still, he couldn’t get over the fact he had breasts and a vagina now! It was so weird and he wasn't too sure that he like having them, even if he like girls having them. The breasts were very tender, aching a little when they bounced if he moved too fast, not that they were much more than an A-Cup, and his vagina (so freaking weird!) always felt a little damp. It had kept him thinking he was going to piss himself. 

Despite all of that Jim couldn’t help but run his hands over his new body taking in all the strange and exciting sensations that rippled through his flesh. His skin felt so much smoother than it had before when he had been a guy. New areas were extra sensitive and old sensitive areas felt dull in comparison. Licking his lips Jim swallowed back a gasp as he ran his thumbs over his nipples, pinching just slightly as he always did when he masturbated. A strong jolt of pleasure shot directly to his pussy, making the already damp orifice feel soaked and dripping. His hand drifted lower over his belly causing his legs to clench and rub against each other. God, but it was almost unbearable how badly he wanted to keep touching himself, herself. He couldn’t, shouldn’t though. God, he should stop because he couldn’t let Spock see! 

_'Oh, Spock…'_ Spock with those gorgeous doe eyes. Spock with the silly bowl cut, but adorable elf ears. Spock with those green flushed lips that were just begging to be plundered!

Oh, but Jim wanted Spock, wanted him in a way that he had never really wanted anyone else before. His body felt empty. So empty! It needed to be filled. Jim moaned, fingers sliding over a fleshy little nub that sent an electric shock of pleasure through his, her, body. His belly jolted and his legs trembled at the shock of pleasure. Jim wasn't really sure if it had been pleasure. It didn't feel the way he was used to his body feeling when he touched himself. This was so different, strange, terrifying and exciting all at once. Closing his eyes Jim ran the tips of a finger back over the little nub, his body jolting again.

It was pleasure, but almost painful if touched too hard, or rubbed the wrong way. He wanted to keep touching it, and to pull his hand away and stop this before it got out of hand. But he already had three fingers sliding over it once before circling it feather light. It was like he didn't have control of himself anymore. His body seemed to belong to someone else. Someone not afraid of the pleasures it offered. Someone not afraid to be caught in the throws of passion.

'Spock!'

Jim’s eyes snapped open, his hand jerking away from the damp slice of skin they had been stroking as he heard the creak of the bathroom door opening. Jim cursed under her, his, breath, but didn’t turn to face the bathroom door. He could hear the sound of someone else breathing heavy behind him. Jim swallowed hard and turned around, eyes locked on the floor.

 _‘Shit,’_ Jim thought, _‘He saw me!’_

Sure enough his eyes saw a pair of slightly green damp feet. Those feet were connected to a pair of long legs, which met at sharply jutting hips. Jim tried not to blush as he took in the sight of Spock pelvis. Unlike Jim’s had been the day before, Spock’s was flat and smooth save for a vertical slit that was a slightly darker shade of green than the rest of his body. As Jim watched Spock’s body shivered, a trail of water sliding down his body, over the slit, which began to part, revealing the jade colored head of Spock’s cock. Jim’s breathing came out in harsh panting breaths as he watched the jade flesh push further and further out, until a long column of flesh was revealed. It was similar and yet so different from a humans. The shape was similar if slightly thinner toward the tip and thicker at the base, than a humans was, almost pointed like a cats. It was also a bit longer, the flesh damp and shinny, unlike a humans velvety flesh.

A low rumble. A purr, made Jim raise his eyes higher, away from the tempting alien flesh.

Spock’s abdomen was flat and smooth, the muscles defined just enough to notice and tempt Jim to reach out and touch them. His shoulders were broad and strong.

Spock’s finger reached out, touching Jim’s face lightly, caressing his cheek. His other hand reached out as well, sliding down Jim’s pubic bone and into the hot wet cavern of Jim’s new female parts. Jim cried out, hands gripping Spock’s arms, hips bucking into Spock’s hand.

“You are wet,” Spock removed his fingers, making Jim moan at the loss. Raising them, Spock studied the fluids soaking his fingers. “Most fascinating. You are producing this naturally.”

“God, yes,” Jim grabbed Spock’s hand, thrusting it back between her legs. He had been female all day and hadn’t had a chance to explore her new body. Then along comes Spock and damn but the sight of Spock had left her all hot and bothered. And that voice! God his voice was smooth and heavy, and Jim could tell it would become deeper as he aged, until it was like a deep, sinful caress of velvet. And now, to top it off, he had a naked, wet Spock standing in front of her. Damn if the sight didn’t leave Jim feeling like a bitch in heat.

Jim pressed himself up the length of Spock’s body, hips moving against both Spock’s hand and his groin. Spock’s fingers were soft yet firm, hesitant, but slowly growing bolder. The feel of them moving deep inside felt so good! Better than anything she had ever done to himself.

Jim continued to hold Spock’s hand, trying to guide it in masturbating her. Her other hand reached up to the back of Spock’s neck, pulling Spock to him. When their lips crushed together, Jim found his body jerking on Spock’s hand, his mouth opening with a gasp. Jim pressed their lips back together, her pink tongue pushing into Spock’s mouth, tracing every inch of the hot, wet cavern. Spock tasted like tea, heat and some spice unknown to Jim.

Spock began pushing his tongue against Jim, moaning into Jim’s mouth. Jim clutched Spock to her, rubbing their bodies together, silently begging for more. More of those wicked fingers delving deep inside, more of that tongue making demands of her own, and more of that other hand which had moved from her face to her back. That hand was sliding down Jim’s back leaving a riot of tingling sensations flooding Jim’s senses and his mind.

Spock pulled their mouths apart with a gasp. Jim found her head leaning to the side, exposing the naked length of her neck. Her chest heaved, pressing his breasts against Spock’s chest. The feel of Spock’s light scattering of chest hair against her nipples sent shivers down her spine, straight into her groin.

Spock’s dark eyes, as rich and sinful as the finest chocolate, seemed to get darker as they traced the contours of Jim flushed face and swollen lips. Somehow Jim knew Spock was savoring the feel of their bodies pressing together just as much as she was. Spock leaned in, nuzzling his face into Jim’s neck, his breath hot against Jim’s skin. Jim’s body arched and she bit her lip to keep from screaming in pleasure as Spock’s mouth began working at his neck every bit as vigorously as he had on Jim’s mouth.

The pressure inside her body was building with an insane speed. With each slow glide of Spock’s tongue up her neck, with each stroke of those fingers deep within her slick passage, Spock brought her closer to orgasm. Spock’s other hand had once again moved from her face back to her buttocks. The long fingers clutched her buttocks, lifting Jim off the ground, holding him so that only Spock’s body pressed against Jim’s, and the hand gripping Jim’s ass, was keeping Jim from dropping to the floor. Spock moved them slowly towards the wall at Jim’s back, each movement sending Spock’s fingers deeper into Jim’s willing body.

Jim whimpered as her back hit the wall, her body giving a violent shiver as he moved inexorably closer to an ever approaching cliff. Jim wasn’t sure what would happen when Spock drove her over that cliff. A part of her felt terrified at the newness of the sensations and another part reveled in them and in the realization that it was Spock causing them. She wanted it, wanted Spock, with every once of her being.

“Spock,” the name came out in a long breathy moan. “Oh, Spock! Please!”

Jim opened her eyes, unsure when she had closed them, to find Spock watching her. His gaze like a pair of hands running over Jim, possessive in their touch.

Jim gasped and moaned as Spock’s hand, still slick with her fluids began to fondle her breast. He tweaked, pulled, pinched and rolled Jim’s nipples until Jim was begging him for more, to finish her, for something! Spock’s hand vanished, leaving her gasping and panting, eyes nearly in tears with the overwhelming need for release.

“You will say my name,” it came out in a low rumbling growl, more command than request.

“Spock,” Jim cried out.

An almost feral smile spread over Spock’s face. The sight of such a fierce smile on a face that until then had been almost a blank mask, was easily one of the most arousing things Jim had ever seen.

Spock lifted Jim higher and took Jim’s breast into his mouth, tongue sliding over the erect nipple. Spock’s fingers took the opportunity to plunge back into Jim, stroking over his clit. Jim’s body clenched tight, the tension inside her peaking, breaking and flooding her with pleasure. Through the pleasure raking her body, Jim could feel Spock’s cock like a branding iron, pushing against Jim’s thigh. The feel of the silken flesh, hard as iron, the small tremors of pleasure vibrating in Spock’s flesh, the light brush of that black hair against her skin, was enough to push her over the edge. Jim came, body arching into Spock, hands sliding up Spock’s neck, over his gracefully pointed ears and into the pitch-black hair.

As the last spasms of pleasure began to fade, Jim found her body going limp in Spock’s arms. Her chest was heavy, pulling in huge, gulping breaths. Jim blinked slowly, moaning in pleasurable aftershocks as Spock removed his fingers from Jim’s dripping cunt. Jim watched Spock as he raised his hand to once again stair at his slick and dripping fingers, soaked in the flood of Jim’s release. Something about the sight was incredibly erotic. So much so that Jim felt arousal begin to build between his legs again.

Suddenly both of Spock’s hands were on her ass, lifting Jim so that she had to wrap her legs around Spock’s hips. The movement caused Jim to cry out as he felt Spock’s erection brush the sensitive opening of her body. Even as Spock moved them away from the wall to the bottom bunk, he managed to keep Jim just high enough on his hips that Jim would constantly feel Spock’s erection but never be able to be penetrated by it. It was maddening. It was electrifying. It was going to bring her either to the brink of orgasm or the brink of madness. Either way Jim knew it would be life altering.

Spock carefully lowered them both onto the bed, the movement startlingly graceful. Jim had been sure that Spock would have tossed her onto the bed and then pounced on her if the almost feral look in his eyes were accurate. But instead Spock was gentle. No one had ever really been gentle with him before. It was . . . nice.

Spock sat on the bed at Jim’s side, fingertips tracing patterns on Jim’s thighs. Jim couldn’t help but smile at him. Jim had never felt as loved and happy as he did at this moment, sitting here with an alien hybrid he had only know for a few short hours. It had to be fate that they had met. She couldn’t imagine what her life would be like from this point forward, knowing there was someone out there who could look at her like Spock was looking at her. Even if she never saw him again, which she truly hoped wouldn’t happen, she knew this one night would help to fill that empty place inside her heart.

His eyes met Spock’s and Jim licked her lips, stretching his hand out until her fingers grazed the silken skin of Spock’s hard shaft. The organ was flushed a dark jade, almost emerald in color. The skin was slick with some kind of naturally produced lubrication that seem to be natural coming out of the pores on the organ and there just under the head of the cock was a hard little nub. Jim wasn’t sure what the nub was for but when he touched it Spock threw his head back and cried out. The sight was enough to leave Jim panting, fingers rubbing over the spot again and again, until Spock had to grab her wrist, eyes begging her to stop before Jim could bring him off. Jim smiled slyly at Spock as he released Jim’s wrist. Jim let his fingers move back down the alien erection, tracing the almost female like lips that the shaft rose out of, before sliding out to the skin just below. The skin there had a similar texture to Spock’s erection and bulged slightly away from his hips, almost like a Ken dolls. Jim was fairly sure that the bulging flesh housed Spock’s testicles as Jim’s own scrotum had before his sudden alteration of gender.

Jim gazed up at Spock from under long lashes as his fingers once again traced their path back up to Spock’s throbbing cock. Jim traced the vein on the underside from based to tip, putting slightly more pressure on the hard nub, before wrapping the head in a fist. She gave an experimental squeeze and finding the right amount of pressure, gave the cock a long pull down and back up, twisting her fist over the head.

Spock’s chest seemed to vibrate as he let out a rumbling purr that sounded suspiciously like, “Jim.”

Suddenly, Jim found herself on her back, her legs spread and Spock kneeling between them. He lifted Jim’s hips, spreading her legs wider until he could nudge against Jim’s entrance, His hand moved over Jim’s rounded hips, combing through the golden curls to delve between her lips. Jim’s new folds parted gently at Spock’s touch, an electric tingle following the path of Spock questing fingers. Jim knew Spock would find her wet and ready for him.

His finger moved away from the tempting flesh so that his erection could nudge at Jim’s entrance, hot and insistent. Jim wanted Spock. Wanted him to thrust, needed him to thrust, needed to feel him deep inside where no one else had touched her before. And God above did it feel good when he did! There was a brief sense of pain and then Jim felt herself open for Spock. Her body rippling around Spock’s length, teasing and hugging his cock in a wet but firm embrace. Spock moved in and out of Jim with long, smooth strokes, Jim’s body, and her thoughts surrounding him.

It may have started slow and gentle, but like their kisses before, Spock was soon taking Jim with gentle force, ruthless control and a primal passion. Jim had never felt so full, or so sexually hungry as she did at this moment as Spock began to thrust faster. His head nuzzled into Jim’s neck, his lips leaving hot wet kisses all the way up to her ears. Spock’s next thrust went deep, sliding hard against Jim’s cervix.

Jim’s control snapped and she came again, moaning and bucking beneath Spock.

She didn’t think she could move, her legs felt like weights had been tied to her ankles. Only Spock’s hands on her hips were keeping her in place. All Jim could do was stay there, still and submissive and let Spock take her, to quench his lust inside her.

And boy-oh-boy did Spock take her!

Rearing back, withdrawing until only the dripping tip of him remained inside her. Jim felt him grip her hips harder in one hand, the other reaching up to grip the blanket by Jim’s shoulder, bracing himself and Jim as he plunged back inside. Jim’s head flung back even as the force of Spock’s thrust pushed her up the bed. Jim tried to brace herself, spreading her legs wider, her hands clutching at Spock’s back and shoulders.

 

* ~ *~ * ~ *~ *

 

Jim jolted upright from his slouched position in the wingback chair, a breathy gasp nearly swallowed in the crackle and pop of the wooden logs in the fireplace. His chest was heaving, his skin felt flushed and the place between his thighs that he had been ignoring all day felt soaked and sticky all the way through his pants.

"Shit," Jim wheezed out. "Just a dream. Thank fuck, it was just a dream."

Jim pushed his hands back through his hair, noting that he needed to see about getting it cut again before it got to 'hippie length' as his neighbor would say. At his feet the book he had been reading when he fell asleep, was laying spine up. Cursing, Jim picked it up, carefully trying to fix the bent pages. He hated it when people bent over the corners of pages rather than find a book mark, and here he had cause similar damage because he was too tired to stay awake and too cowardly to go upstairs where Spock was sleeping.

 _'Shit! Spock.'_ He shoved the book back into its place on the shelf. _'I just had a wet dream about Spock.'_

Jim cursed his libido, blaming it on the sudden influx of female hormones from the unexpected gender change. He had always been able to control his libido before, but apparently being a girl was ruining that option at the wrong time considering how attractive his house guests were, especially their son. _'Who I am sharing a room with.'_

Letting out a frustrated groan, Jim picked up his PADD and made his way out of the library and to the stairs. He wasn’t going to hide out all night. He was better than that, better than Frank who hid away from his problems at the bottom of a bottle. Accepting that he couldn’t hide forever, that he didn’t want to hide forever, Jim made his way up the stairs, past the pictures of a happy family that hadn’t existed in over a decade. He hesitated for a heartbeat at the door to his room, but stepped inside. Somehow he didn’t feel all that worried about what Spock would think if he saw Jim was currently a girl. It’s not like these strangers had ever met him before. And if asked he could always say Jim was short for Jamie.

Yes, that would be his plan. 

Reaching out Jim turned the knob to his room and stepped inside, turning to carefully shut the door. He pressed his hand along the seem of the door, feeling the slight click as the door settled into place. Turning back around he looked at the door to the bathroom which was open, a bit of light peeking into the room from the small window by the tub. Looking away he moved towards the bed, his steps sure after so many years spent in the room. The window above his desk had the curtains drawn closed, blocking the moonlight, but Jim was still able to see the figure on the lower bunk, tucked into the blankets. He was laying on his back, hands resting at his side, fast asleep.

 _‘No late night buggery on schedule for tonight,’_ Jim thought with a shiver. He wasn’t sure if it was a shiver of desire or regret. It had been a very good dream after all.


	3. Chapter 3

**May 2248 - Day 2; 1 Hour Before Dawn, Jim’s Bedroom**

 

It was still dark out when Jim woke and although he was exhausted and sore, his internal clock had still awakened him before dawn. Jim lay there for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the dark room before carefully slipping out of the top bunk. He paused for a moment, taking in the sight of his sleeping guest…his dream lover, before getting out of the bed and getting dressed. Betsy was still waiting to be milked and there were still the chickens to feed and get eggs from.

The house was quiet, so Jim tried to remain so as well. After slipping past Spock and into the bathroom he took a quick wash in the sink and used the toilet before slipping back out of the room, heading out to the barn. He could take a long hot shower once he had gotten all the morning chores out of the way.

The walk out of the house to the barn didn’t take long but it had Jim wide awake. The night air was still brisk enough that he could see each breath as it puffed out. Looking up at the sky, he gave it another two hours and that would change. The normal routine of the farm chores was calming and Jim found himself rehashing the last few days. This had definitely been the most unusual week of his life, probably the biggest emotional roller coaster as well. Yet, he was strangely happy. Happier than he could ever remember being.

Last night, whatever had happened with that dream Spock, it was certainly more than physical. He couldn’t ever remember experiencing anything remotely similar, either in real life or a dream. Not that he had anything to really compare it to anyway. He had a vague idea of what sex should be like, he was a teenager and had spent a large portion of his days bringing himself to orgasm. That wasn’t the same though. Especially not now that he had girl bits between his legs instead of his normal cock.

He wondered if it would be like that when he had sex for the first time. If he could have a similar physical and emotional reaction to sex with someone that was just as powerful as what the dream had created. Did it feel like that for everyone their first time? Or was it simply something rare and special for Jim to have experienced since his partner was Spock? Would it make a difference if he lost his virginity now as a girl, or later as a boy? If he ever changed back. Would it make a difference if Jim convinced Spock to be his first like in the dream, or if it would be better or worse if Jim waited for someone else. Somehow he didn’t think everyone lost their virginity like Jim had in the dream. He was pretty sure a girls first time was supposed to be painful. 

So many of Jim’s classmates had lost their virginity already. True Jim was younger than some of them, having skipped grades. But he was good looking, smart, and relatively popular. It should be easy to find someone willing to take him to bed. Especially now that he had breasts and a vagina. But he didn’t really want to do that with someone he would see all day. He would prefer to do it with Spock. How strange was that? He had known the Vulcan for less than a day and already Jim felt strangely pulled in his direction. Like matter and light drawn to a black hole. It was like something out of one of his Grandma’s cheesy romance books. Like the meeting of soulmates, like Romeo and Juliet, but without (hopefully) the horrible end of them both. Maybe it was the universe’s way of saying “Sorry we’ve fucked you over so often,” or maybe it was a brief moment of light in an otherwise endless darkness.

Well, he was certainly being maudlin.

Jim forced himself away from the darker thoughts and the more pleasant as well. It wouldn’t do to start getting distracted when he still had to finish milking Betsy or when he had to get to the chickens. Still, Jim couldn’t help the wide smile that spread across his face each time he thought of Spock and that dark, penetrating gaze of his as he watched Jim.

Jim closed his eyes, reveling in the moment and the memory that Spock had, even if only that one time, loved him in a way that no one else did. Even if it was only a dream, it had felt so real. It was more real than anything Jim had experienced before.

 

* ~ *~ * ~ *~ *

 

_Spock didn’t understand why seeing Jim standing nude in the bedroom had snapped his strict control so badly. Perhaps it was the smell of her lust, the shock of realizing Jim was female, or maybe it was the almost shy look in her eyes as she gazed at him slowly being transformed by her obvious approval of his physical appearance. What ever the reason it had certainly done what nothing else ever had quite so badly, it had rendered mute all his Vulcan control and let his Human needs surge forwards. For a moment he was sure that he had been struck by an early Pon Farr, the need to touch, to claim her had been so strong._

_He had kissed her and touched her in ways he had only vaguely dreamed of and never let himself actively think of while awake. Each touch of her flesh was intoxicating and Spock found himself throwing away all the logical reasons that told him they shouldn’t be doing this and simply threw himself into her._

_He was buried inside her body, lost in the touch of her skin, the sound of her voice crying out his name, over and over again. There at the edge of his mind he realized he was picking up her emotions, her pleasure, her unconditional joy at his existence, through the intimate touch of their joined bodies. He didn’t care though, there was nothing wrong or disgusting about Jim’s mind and his joining and dancing as their bodies were. Something about this moment, something about her just felt right._

_His hands moved, cupping the side of her face, fingers searching for the right spot to truly touch her. Then they found it and the sensations, the emotions he had only vaguely been aware of were filling his mind, their mind. He was awash in a sea of emotion and sensation that was and yet wasn’t his. He was aware of every physical sensation in his body and Jim’s body all at once. He felt it as he thrust into her willing, craving body and felt himself being filled by that same thrust that he knew he was making as if her body was his body. Their two selves were surging and blending into an indistinguishable maelstrom, one endless being. Their pleasure rose and fell together spinning and surging like a tsunami in his-their mind. Their flesh trembled, their emotions, all drove them wild and they-he gave into their own need. His-their hips hammered into them-her with a crazed, animalistic savagery. He-they could feel his blood surge faster into his-their cock, the flesh growing harder, thicker as the nub under the head shivered and extended from his cock, lodging into her-their feminine walls. A moment later, they stilled, the world stilled, time itself stilled, as every muscle in their body tensed and released as they cried out, voice as one, and came._

 

~ *~ * ~ *~ *

 

Spock rolled over onto his side, nuzzling the soft body clutched tight against his own. He took a deep breath, taking in the rich musky scent of arousal, sex and the heady scent of Jim that lingered on the bed. Although rich and intoxicating the scent was also growing faint. Spock pulled the form closer, tossing a leg over it. Lazily his still sleepy mind registered that the “body” he cuddle up against was too soft and squishy to be Jim. Cracking open an eye, he scanned the pillow that had mistaken for Jim, before scanning the rest of the room.

Jim wasn’t here. He must have already gotten up and gone to the barn. Spock had read on his PADD yesterday during the car ride, that farm animals such as cows required milking daily. 

Spock was surprised to realize that he found himself vaguely irritated that he had dreamed of having sex with Jim, that Jim had been a girl, that he had seen Jim as his mate. The dream had been so real, he had not wanted to wake and for a moment after waking it had still seemed real and he become irritated that Jim had left their bed when she, he, should be here, eagerly begging for Spock’s cock to fill her again.

Blinking, Spock pulled away from the pillow. His own thoughts startled him. _‘Being surrounded by the smell of this human…of Jim, it is affecting me.’_

Spock tossed the blankets aside and almost sprang out and away from the bed. His emotions felt wild, almost primal every time he thought of Jim. His logic seemed to rapidly disappear. He needed to regain control of himself before he could face his parents, before he could face Jim. If he saw Jim now there was a high probability he would rip the cloths from his body, push him over the first piece of sturdy furniture and mount him like a wild beast, despite Jim being male unlike in the dream.

Spock’s whole body gave an excited shudder at the mental image. The temperature of his body rose, his skin flushing jade. A long low growl rumbled past his lips as his body stumbled closer to the bed. Suddenly, and without quite knowing how, Spock found himself facedown on the bed, hips rutting against the pillows and blankets that had been scattered across the bed during his hasty exit. The rich scent of Jim was making it hard to focus. Mmmm, but he found he loved that smell. Loved it almost as much as the feel of Jim’s mind intertwining with his own. And yet, their minds hadn’t melded. He had not touched Jim. And yet…and yet he could swear that they had, that he knew Jim already, had always known Jim.

A rush of tactile sensation and visual memories from the dream flooded his mind in a tsunami of desire, leaving Spock feeling as if he would drown in them as he crashed on the shores of a sudden climax. His hips were moving wildly, pressing him deeper into the bedding and mattress, lifting up Jim’s pheromones that had become embedded in the mattress from years of sleeping on the bed. Making Spock’s pleasure ramp up higher, orgasm pulsing through him again in a startling jolt.

His limbs felt heavy and clumsy as the pleasure trickled away. Spock took a deep shuddering breath and tried to ignore the small spark of lust that sprung to life in his belly. Slowly, he gained control of his limbs again and pushed himself up and off the bed. He tried not to grimace at the sight of the ill-used bed, soaked in his seed.

There had been nothing logical about this.

Telling himself he was not fleeing, and he was certainly not feeling wildly passionate about a human boy he had just met, Spock headed into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

 

* ~ *~ * ~ *~ *

 

Jim gave one last good stretch before he reached down and picked up the basket full of chicken eggs. The sun was just starting to peek out over the horizon and Jim was sure his guests would be awake soon. Hurrying inside the house, Jim took off his dirty boots, leaving them in the small mudroom before stepping inside the kitchen. Carefully he set the basket of eggs on the kitchen counter before making a quick bee-line to his room and the waiting shower.

Jim closed the bedroom door behind him as he quickly began pulling off his dirty cloths. The sound of the shower running filtered into his consciousness as he was dropping his cloths into the bathroom hamper. Jim found himself cursing for not paying attention, for freezing for just a moment as the dream from last night flashed and pulsed in his mind like a brilliant pulsar. He hoped it wasn’t Mr. or Mrs. Sarek in the shower. If it was maybe he would be lucky and they wouldn’t notice that he had entered the room and Jim could sneak away.

“Jim.”

The deep voice coming from the shower calmed his nerves as he realized it was Spock on the other side of the shower curtain. It shouldn’t be calming but it was. There was nothing scary about Spock seeing him naked, which was perhaps something that should make Jim afraid.

“It’s just me, Spock. Sorry about intruding.”

“Do you require the use of the shower?” 

Jim tried to tell himself the husky quality to Spock’s voice was just a figment of his imagination. “Yeah, but don’t rush yourself. I can wait.”

“Indeed.” Spock opened the curtain, revealing his wet, naked body to Jim’s suddenly lustful gaze.

 _‘Somehow,’_ Jim thought, _‘it’s not fair he can reduce me to a wet, quivering mass so easily.’_

“The most logical course of action then would be for you to share the shower with me in order to conserve the largest quantity of water.”

Jim felt his face heat up as if it was on fire. He didn’t know if Spock was being serious or not, it was too hard to tell on that perfect poker face. Jim swallowed back a moan at the thought of getting in there with him, but could not stop his eyes from taking in the truly amazing sight before him. Spock looked similar to how he had in the dream, all smooth pale green tinted skin leading down to the apex of his groin where a small slit at the front of his pelvis was slowly spreading open. The edges of the slit were a darker green, more like an emerald green rather than the slight olive tone to the rest of his skin.

“Yeah,” Jim was sure his voice showed his own rising desire just as strongly as the leer that was sliding over his face as he watched the Vulcan teen becoming aroused by Jim’s altered body. “That sounds eminently logical.”

Jim hadn’t done anything more than simply look at Spock, but between his thighs Jim could feel himself growing wet, the heated essence of his desire coating the lips of his pussy, leaving his clit throbbing with an intense erotic pain that he had never experienced before. Jim felt a shiver of desire working its way up his spine and licking his lips, stepped up to the shower where Spock was still watching him.

They were only a hands breadth away from each other. Jim was staring into Spock’s coffee colored eyes as Spock stared back into his own forget-me-not blue eyes. Spock’s eyes were intense and filled with hunger, with his desire for Jim. Jim was surprised to see it on his face, surprised that Spock seemed as effected by Jim as Jim was effected by Spock. Jim thrilled a little at how good that made him feel. When Spock looked at him, he felt as if the rest of the world vanished. It was just the two of them here and nothing else mattered or ever could match up to how desired he felt with Spock looking at him. It left Jim breathless with the need to touch and be touched by Spock. To make him understood how much this simple affection meant to Jim when he had so little of it in his life so far.

Spock’s hand reached out, two fingers extended, to caress the side of his face from temple to chin. Jim leaned into the caress, sighing in pleasure at the electric tingles that seemed to pulse directly from Spock’s fingertips to his brain, to his aching pussy. For a moment before the hunger in those fingers drowned him in desire, Jim remembered that Vulcans were touch telepaths. No thoughts, feelings, or desires, would be hidden from Spock.

“You are quite aesthetically pleasing, Jim. Though I had not thought you to be female.”

Jim smiled, his blue eyes alight with warm affection. “So are you.”

Spock inclined his head in acceptance of the compliment and Jim’s non-answer to his surprising gender, before leaning in and capturing Jim’s lips in a slow, molten kiss. Spock's kiss was firm, yet soft. His lips sliding like warm silk over Jim's own, plump but chapped lips.

Spock’s tongue slipped out to lightly caress Jim’s lower lips, its touch slightly raspy as it trailed a path of fire across Jim’s lips. His kiss was more potent than the strongest drug, it left Jim feeling an overwhelming sense of euphoria, of need. It created a feisty, fiery hunger that invaded his senses, his mind in a whirlwind of desire. Their lips crushed together, tongues stroking and sucking until Jim thought he would black out from lack of oxygen.

 _‘Sweet Lord have mercy!’_ He was burning, aching with a need so strong it was pathetic. He wanted to throw Spock to the tiled floor and fuck him like a wild beast. He wanted to ride him. To feel all that alien strength and control driving deep inside him again, filling him until he wanted to cry out. His vagina clenched, liquid fire trickling between Jim’s thighs. His knees were going weak with the need for Spock, for that hidden passion that he had unleashed on Jim last night during the dream.

 _“K’hat’n’dlawa,”_ his voice was soft, tender almost in a way Jim didn’t think most Vulcans would ever use, especially not when talking to him.

Spock’s lips were flushed and swollen from their kisses. His face flushed a becoming shade of jade. Spock took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring as he took in the scent of Jim's growing arousal. As Jim watched, their gazes locked together. Spock lowered his hand flattening it on Jim’s stomach, creating a heated path of pleasure as those long, graceful finger teased and danced over Jim’s hips and between his thighs. A whimpering protest fell from Jim’s lips as Spock's hand slid from between Jim's thighs to stroke over her own fingers, sending a startling burst of electric pleasure straight to Jim’s core. The touch filled his, her, mind and brought things low in his body into a vice-like grip of need.

 _“K’diwa,”_ his voice was sliding along Jim’s nerves like a physical caress of silk, threatening to undue him. “Jim.”

“Spock, God, what you do to me.” Jim felt weak and powerful all at once. Whether Spock knew it or not he had completely altered Jim’s world in a way neither of them could ever have anticipated upon first setting eyes upon each other.

“Bathe with me, Jim.” Spock’s hand held hers in a soft, firm grip, leading Jim into the warm embrace of the hot water and steam that played like ghosts around Spock’s waiting form.

Jim nodded, unable to tear his gaze from Spock’s, to deny him this, to deny him anything. For the first time in his life Jim felt wanted, needed. He felt like something important, even if he was only important to this one teenage Vulcan. Even if it was only being caused by rampant teenage hormones. But Jim didn't, couldn't, think that was all this was. His family might not think him worth much, if anything, but Jim knew he was worth something. If he wasn't then he should have died back on that desolate colony alongside so many others. Instead he was alive, he was here, and he had the most handsome boy, young man, he had ever seen kissing and caressing him as if he was as beautiful and addictive as an Orion.

Spock's hands were gentle, cupping Jim's face as he leaned him into the water. His eyes were warm with something Jim had never seen directed at him before, and yet there in those dark depths was a waiting hunger that feasted on the sight of Jim's narrow waist, flared hips, and perky breasts. For a brief moment Jim faltered. What if Spock was only attracted because he thought Jim a girl? Could Jim lie to him like that? But then a little voice in his mind spoke up, _'It's not a lie. I am a girl right now.'_

With that Jim resolved to ignore the bad feeling in his chest that said this was wrong, and to follow that little voice and accept that for this moment in time he was really a she. A she that Spock found sexually desirable.

Spock's hands moved, sure and gracefully over her body and through her hair, whipping away all traces of the barn. As his hands moved over her hips, his knees bent and he lowered himself to the shower floor, kneeling before her. Jim reached unable not to stroke his face as he had stroked her own.

Spock sighed and leaned into the caress, his lips quirking up in the tiniest of smiles. He looked up at her, leaning forward to place a soft, tentative kiss just below her bellybutton. Jim smiled and ran her fingers through his hair.

Spock buried his head against her hip, his smooth, silky hair caressing the soft flesh of her belly as his hands reached up to gripped her thighs. The sight of him kneeling before her, brought a flood of juices to dampen her thighs, hot and slick, leaving her aching and ready for him. Her fingers tightened in his hair as Jim tried to steady himself.

“Spock,” desperation and desire filled her voice.

The slight roughness of his tongue could be felt sliding down her hip, drinking the shower spray from her skin. Jim felt her breath catch as Spock moved lower until his tongue was touching her most intimate parts, sending pleasure surging through her. She cried out, arching into his wicked mouth. Spock's mouth moved away, breath hot as a desert breeze as it ghosted over her sensitized clit.

Jim cried out at the loss of the rough tongue, begging Spock for more. Her eyes rolled, head tilting as she watched him run fingers through her golden curls.

“Fascinating,” his voice was low, sinful, leaving her body to clench and spasm in pleasure at the sound.

Jim swallowed heavily as he flashed back to the dream, where Spock said the same thing as he first ran his fingers through her juices. Jim tried not to cry for more of his touch as the memory sparked her desire higher. Spock's intrigue with his, her, pubic hair was a little strange, but also kind of cute. It made Jim wonder if Vulcan women were hairless there as Spock was. Would Spock spend more time caressing and licking her there if he wasn't used to pubic hair? Was this even a new experience for Spock, or was he an old hand at sex? He certainly seemed skilled enough.

His quiet inspection of Jim's groin finished and with a sudden growl his lips covered the soaked folds of her pussy, sucking her clit into his mouth. That raspy, cat-like tongue flicking out and over the throbbing bud as his hands pulled her thighs apart, sensitive fingers caressing the damp folds until they found the tender entrance.

Jim screamed, begged and prayed as Spock worked his fingers inside her, his mouth still hungrily feeding on her tortured clit. She was withering beneath his touch, his intimate kiss, nearly screaming his name loud enough to wake the dead or his parents. Just that one, now two, fingers made her feel full, aching for more and yet wanting to push them away. The sensations were so new, so different that Jim wasn't sure how to handle them. He wasn't sure he liked the strange sensations and the little sparks of pain as Spock's fingers pressed deeper inside, breaking through Jim's virgin barrier. But he also wasn't sure he disliked them. It was so much more intimate than Jim had been expecting, and if he, she, ignored the slight pain, it was actually beginning to feel really good. Intense.

Jim could feel it building inside him like a rising tsunami, making her muscles tighten, her hips piston wildly, and her, his, vagina flow with that amazing wetness around Spock's fingers. Still his touch moved in a perfect rhythm, never going too slow or too fast, just building up that wave of pleasure until Jim thought she would black out. With a surprised sense of awe she felt his teeth lightly graze her clit, making Jim's head toss and his voice freeze in his, her, throat as that tsunami wave of pleasure broke over her, swallowing her world as she came.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Spock found himself drowning in Jim’s senses, in her pleasure, her emotions. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before and he never wanted it to end as illogical as that was. He didn’t think he could ever get used to it and at the same time he found he didn’t want to. He was enjoying all the surprises, the wild emotions and illogical reactions that made up Jim. He was enjoying Jim and he never wanted to let that go. Never wanted to let Jim go. The feelings, the need and protectiveness Jim inspired in him were wild, primal and terrifying all at once. As much as they left Spock feeling off balance he found himself enjoying the very illogical, un-vulcan nature of the situation they created.

This affair with Jim would undoubtedly caused difficulties with his Father and his _ko-kuglasu_ , T’Pring. Although the prospect of disappointing his Father still brought some very human emotions up in Spock and continued to go against his very Vulcan heritage. To do something that would undoubtedly break his weak bond with T’Pring seemed a more logical choice than to not complete a bond with Jim. Spock had never known anyone who could elicit an emotional response so strongly from him and who made him desire to meld their mind to his own. He had not even formed a true mind meld with her, just briefly touched the edges of her thoughts. Even that proved to him that his bodily and emotional reactions to her were beyond his control. Never had he met anyone whose mind so perfectly balanced his. T’Pring’s tepid mind just couldn’t compare to the brilliant sunlight of Jim’s mind. 

Jim was truly his _K’hat’n’dlawa._

Even as he lifted the unconscious Jim, part of his mind was testing various scenarios for convincing Jim of the logic of returning to Vulcan with him and the probability of his parents and the council agreeing to allow the two of them to bond. He knew he would have to have a perfectly logical and through argument for the council to agree to such as request. They would not be pleased to see the line of Surak watered down with human blood further than it already was. No matter how many scenarios he came up with his calculations showed the likely outcome not to be in favor of him keeping Jim. There was only a 4.675% likelihood that he would be allowed to keep his bond with Jim.

Spock lay Jim down on the mattress and pulled the blankets up and over Jim. The next few minutes were spent straightening the room back up, hiding the evidence of their indiscretions and getting himself mentally prepared to face his parents.

Spock sat down at the desk and watched Jim sleep. His body throbbed and burned to rip his cloths off and join Jim under the covers. To warm Jim’s body with the heat building in his body, to fill Jim until he was screaming for Spock. He couldn’t. He knew Jim felt the connection between them, knew he was Spock’s _K’diwa_. That didn’t mean he had the right to change Jim’s life so dramatically. Of course that didn’t mean that when, in all likelihood, he had to leave Jim behind to return to Vulcan, that the moment he got the chance he wouldn’t find Jim again and complete their bond. Even if he had to wait until he went into Pon Farr, he would find Jim.

“Spock,” Jim’s voice was hoarse and heavy as she sat up, the blanket pooling around her waist, revealing her small perky breasts. Spock looked away briefly before striding to her chest of drawers and pulling out fresh cloths for her. He remained focused on acquiring suitable garments for her from what appeared to be male clothing.

“How long was I out?”

Spock turned back to face Jim, cloths in hand. “Approximately twelve minutes and forty-three seconds.”

Jim chuckled lightly before crawling out of the bed, unashamed of her nudity. “I should get dressed then and see about starting some breakfast.”

Jim flipped through the small pile of cloths. “No underwear, huh? You kinky little Vulcan.” Jim threw Spock what he was coming to recognized as flirty smile and a wink.

Spock’s eyebrow arched. “There didn’t appear to be any suitable female undergarments.”

Jim gave Spock a wink and a shrug as she pulled on a pair of faded black jeans. “I coulda’ just worn some of the boxers. It’s not like they aren’t clean.”

“They are not suitable for you.”

Jim smiled as she grabbed an ace bandage from the dresser. “Mind helping me bind my chest? I don’t have any available bras at the moment.”

Spock found himself very aware of each brief touch of his fingers on Jim’s cool, human flesh as he helped Jim wrapped the bandage suitably tight around her chest. As every other time it stirred things in his mind and groin. It was most unusual that he found himself already used to the contact, both physical and mental, when he had known Jim for under twelve Earth hours. A most fascinating development.

“Thanks, Spock.” Jim smiled again at Spock before pulling on a black long-sleeved shirt. Jim pushed up onto her tip-toes and kissed Spock on the cheek. “Is there anything you prefer to have for breakfast?”

“Any sufficiently vegetarian food would be acceptable.”

Jim smiled wider and slapped Spock’s should lightly. “I think we can manage that.”

Together they made there way down the stairs and into the kitchen. Spock took in the sight of the room with the warm, but weak light of a Terran sunrise coming through the window. It was much the same as it had been at night, save for the wire basket filled with eggs and the cleaned teacups sitting in a rack by the sink.

“Would you like milk, juice, water or tea with breakfast? Oh! I think there is still some coffee too.”

“Tea will be sufficient.” Spock watched Jim as she went about boiling water for tea. “Do you require assistance preparing the meal?”

“Depends.” Jim quickly began looking through the cupboards. “Looks like it’s either cream-of-wheat or cold cereal for breakfast.”

Jim pulled out a plain tin that stated the contents contained within were cream-of-wheat. “Do you drink milk? ‘Cause if not it looks like this is the only option.”

“The cream-of-wheat is acceptable, Jim. I do not believe that I have ever partaken of this food.”

“Really? Well its nothin’ special.” Jim pulled out another pan, which he began to prepare for the meal. “Would you like some fruit? I have some blueberries and strawberries from the garden out back.”

Spock inclined his head and moved to help Jim start preparing the meal. He quickly located the fruit that Jim had mentioned and began to clean it off, all the while watching Jim move about the kitchen. He was pleased (not that he would admit to the emotion) to see how quick and efficient Jim was in cooking, directing and teaching him on the preparation and creation of the morning meal. They worked together in a smooth, easy rhythm, chatting softly about the difference between life on Earth and on Vulcan.

“You two are up early.”

Spock turned and noticed his parents standing in the doorway watching the two of them. “We have prepared a meal of cream-of-wheat and fruit. Will you partake of some, Mother?”

Amanda smiled at Spock and moved to sit at the table. “That sounds lovely dear.”

“Did you want some tea, Mr. and Mrs. Sarek? I have some milk, juice or coffee as well. Although I would have to make the coffee.”

“I think I’ll have some milk but I am sure my husband would prefer the tea.”

“Can do.” Jim turned to get a tall glass to fill with some of the freshly pasteurized milk from the barn, while Spock poured his father a cup of the tea. “Would you like blueberries, strawberries or both in your oatmeal?”

“I’ll have the blueberries, Sarek I think would like the strawberries more.”

Sarek inclined his head at his wife. “I shall allow your experience to make the wise choice, my wife.”

Jim quickly dished up the bowls and tossed some of the fruit pieces on top before setting them on the table in front of the two adults. He spooned up two more bowls tossing of bit of both fruits on top and setting them down at the two empty seats where Spock and he would be sitting.

Breakfast was a fairly quiet affair after that, Mrs. Sarek quietly asking Jim the occasional question about the town and the local garage. Altogether it was the most relaxing breakfast of Jim’s life. Sitting there with Spock’s strong silent presence next him, the heat from Spock’s body warming him and Mrs. Sarek’s gentle and kind voice talking with her like she was an equal…was glorious. A Part of Jim hoped that they never leaved even while the other part of her told him that of course they would. They couldn’t stay here in the middle of bum-fuck-nowhere-Iowa forever.

“Would you like me to call for a tow now? We should be able to get a hold of Phil Blockman at the garage now.”

“Thank you, Jim. I think we were about 5 miles up the road. It should be a silver Nutrino.”

“Got’cha.” Jim stood up and made his way to the vid-phone. “It’ll just be a sec.”

Spock watched as Jim's walked away, her jeans molded to the curves of her buttocks, enticing him. It would take so very little to rip the fabric from her body, revealing the sweet mound of her hot, wet vagina to his hungry hands and eyes. He tightened his jaw and forced his gaze away from her as the riotous, traitorous hunger race through him. He would not reveal such a lapse in emotional control in front of his Father. He was stronger than this.

As his eyes turned away from Jim they caught his Father’s gaze. Spock fought to control his bodies sudden need to flinch and blush at being caught, even as his Father’s brow raised in inquiry. He inclined his head in acknowledgement of his Father’s request for clarification. He would find a way to insure his Father was not aware of how badly Jim had emotionally compromised him.

“Alright,” Jim returned to the table with a wide grin. “Phil is on his way to get your car. Once he knows how bad the problem is he’ll call back to let us know how long it’ll take to fix it.”

“Thank you, Jim. I hope we aren’t over staying our welcome.” Amanda gave Jim a small, soft smile.

“Naw. It’s no trouble, Ma’am. I think we can all get along just fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Translations
> 
>  
> 
> 1\. K’hat’n’dlawa - one who is 'half of my heart and soul in its deepest sense; became unfashionable after Reformation because of its emotional connotation
> 
> 2\. K’diwa - shortened form of address for beings who are each other's k'hat'n'dlawa; equated to the Terran term 'beloved'
> 
> 3\. Ko-kuglasu - fiancee; a woman to whom a man is engaged to be married


	4. Chapter 4

**May 2248 - Day 2; 1:43 pm, Kirk Farm**

 

The sound of tires on the dirt drive distracted Jim from the chess board and Spock’s newest move. Standing up he crossed the room, past Spock’s parents in the seats closest to the fireplace, to the window looking out at the front drive. Pulling up the drive was a slightly beat-up red tow truck, a silver Neutrino hovercar attached at the back. The truck came to a halt, thick clouds of dust dancing around the tires as the driver, a tall balding red headed man, stepped out of the car and walked to the front door.

Jim turned and looked back at his houseguests. “Phil is here.” Jim moved out of the room and into the hall, where he slipped on a pair of battered sneakers. “I’ll go see about the car.” Jim was out the front door before his guests could reply and sauntered out to where the older human was waiting. 

Spock watched it all quietly through the window; carefully studying the way Jim and Mr. Blockman interacted. The man had what humans termed a “rueful” smile on his face as he spoke with Jim. Spock watched them move to the Nutrino and pop it’s hood open, pointing and talking to each other. Jim nodded at something the other human said and pointed at another section of the engine, practically draping herself across the front of the vehicle. Her shirt was riding up enough to flash a strip of her smooth golden flesh and showing the tempting curve of her ass. The older human put his hand on the car next to Jim’s, their fingers lightly touching as he leaned forward to look at what Jim was pointing too. Spock had to look away before the sight caused any dangerous emotions to further damage his control.

Several more minutes passed by before the sound of a car engine started and the distinct sound of a vehicle leaving could be heard. A moment later the front door opened and Spock could hear Jim removing her shoes before she returned to the library.

Jim smiled at them as he stepped into the room. “Phil doesn’t think the problems too bad. It shouldn’t take more than an hour to repair once the replacement part arrives.”

“Will it take long to get,” Amanda asked looking slightly worried. “I don’t want to overstay our welcome.”

“Don’t worry about it. You can stay as long as like.” Jim sat back down next to Spock. “Phil says he can get a part here by tomorrow afternoon if he calls into a friend of his at Starfleet’s machine yard.”

“Starfleet has a machine yard near by,” inquired Spock.

“Yeah, it’s pretty new actually. They just recently started building a new Starship there.”

“Fascinating.”

Jim smiled and the two went back to their game as Spock’s Father watched them with a strange look in his eyes.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

The rest of the day seemed to creep by for Jim. He desperately wanted night to come so that he could take Spock away from the house, out into the long grass of the field where they could watch the stars and each other without prying eyes. Jim knew he would have to wait. For right now it was enough that Spock was willing to help him clean the master bath, re-hang the porch swing, and to gather more fresh vegetables from the garden.

In some ways Jim also found himself wishing tomorrow wouldn’t come. That Spock could stay here with him forever, just sitting on the newly hung swing chatting about all kinds of things. They were so perfect together, this moment was perfect. Just sitting here with him, talking about various things they had read or studied. Jim had never had anyone who could make him feel so peaceful and happy as Spock could. It was painful to think it would all be over so soon.

Spock turned his attention away from Jim, dark eyes scanning the drive as a forest-green truck pulled up into the drive. Jim stood and watched the truck pull up, his fingers brushing Spock’s. He wasn’t really worried about the visit, although it was a bit odd. Jim didn’t think Mr. Freedman had ever stopped by before for anything other than normal vet visits, at least since Jim could remember.

Paul Freedman had the same tall athletic build of his son and was just as fit. His skin was lighter than his sons, due to his mixed heritage. Paul Freedman took more after his mother in skin tone; the rich color of her Apache skin over a more African bone structure from his Father made him a striking man to behold. His son took more after his own Mother and Grandfather, the African heritage more obvious, although his son had lucked out and gotten his Grandmother’s straight black hair.

Jim smiled at Mr. Freedman as he shut his car door. Mr. Freedman smiled back, his face lined with wrinkles showing off his naturally friendly personality. His dark hair was cut short and turned nearly silver with age. Jim couldn’t help but smile wider as their eyes met. There were few men as kind as Paul Freedman in the world and Jim had always slightly idolized the man.

“Hello, Mr. Freedman.”

“Hello, Jim. How’re you doing son?”

“Oh,” Jim blushed as he realized Mr. Freedman would have heard that Jim was in the same predicament as his own son. “I’m doing alright sir.”

Mr. Freedman moved forward, stopping short of the steps where Jim and Spock stood. “Phil said you had guests so I thought I’d stop by and see if there was anything you might need.”

“Well,” Jim rubbed the back of his neck, “I am running a bit low on groceries. I mean I have enough vegetables to last another couple days and of course the milk and eggs.”

Mr. Freedman nodded. “I thought as much when I saw Frank driving out of the city. He’s never been good at keeping things up for you kids.” He moved to the back of the truck, waving Jim and Spock to follow. In the bed of the truck were several large cloth bags full of various foodstuffs. Mr. Freedman pulled them out, handing two to Spock, two to Jim and grabbing the last three himself. “Let’s get these put away and you can introduce me to your guests.”

Jim nodded and moved back towards the house, stopping at the sound of Mr. Freedman’s voice. “Jim, if you need anything more I want you to give me a call.”

Jim looked at the ground as he felt his eyes go all watery and his cheeks flushing. “Thanks, Mr. Freedman.”

He gave Jim a warm smile as the three of them started moving again and headed into the house. “No thanks are needed, Jim.”

Jim noticed how much attention Spock was paying to the interaction and blushed brighter, unsure if he should be embarrassed at the attention. Surely the whole thing was proving to Spock how pitiful Jim and his family were. It must make Spock question his relationship, if that is what this was, with Jim.

It didn’t take long to get into the kitchen where Mr. and Mrs. Sarek were sitting and drinking tea. The two adults were watching Jim and Mr. Freedman almost as closely as Spock was. Mr. Freedman set his bags on the counter before quickly introducing himself to the two other adults. Jim and Spock made quick work of storing the items away as the adults determined if there was anything else that would be needed.

“Jim?”

Jim turned. “Yes, Mrs. Sarek?”

“Would you mind if we used your library to chat with Mr. Freedman?”

“Go ahead. I can start trying to get dinner sorted out.” Jim turned to Mr. Freedman. “Would you like to stay for dinner, sir?”

“If you don’t mind, Jim, I would love too.”

“It’s not a problem. I mean you brought the food an’ all.”

Mr. Freedman chuckled and patted Jim’s shoulder. “Alright then. We’ll just be in the other room.”

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Amanda smiled as she sat down next to her husband. The dark-skinned man who had introduced himself as Paul Freedman took a seat in the wingback, moving the chair to better face them.

“Have you known Jim long, Mr. Freedman?”

“Call me Paul.” 

Amanda nodded making him smile wider, white teeth flashing. 

“I have known Jim since he was just a babe. He’s a good kid, might be a bit too smart for his own good sometimes, but still a reliable young man.”

“I got that impression. He’s been very kind to us, letting us stay here with him.”

“Jim’s always been the kind of kid who’d help you if you looked to be in a spot of trouble. He’s a lot like his old man in that.”

“If it’s not too rude, what happened to Jim’s Father?”

Paul leaned back in the chair, glancing up at the ceiling for a long moment. Slowly he looked away from the ceiling, rich eyes locking onto Amanda’s and Sarek’s. “I assume you have heard of the USS Kelvin?”

“The Starfleet vessel that was destroyed by the unidentified Romulan vessel in 2233.04,” replied Sarek.

“Yes, that’s the ship.” Paul took a deep breath, eyes closing momentarily. “Jim’s parents both served aboard the Kelvin. They were onboard when the ship was attacked. The attack was so sudden and so violent that it caused Winona, Jim’s Mother, to go into premature labor. His Father, George, became acting Captain when Captain Robau was killed and was forced to order the shuttle with Winona to evacuate without him.” A look of deep pain and grief flashed through his eyes, his voice thick with the old grief. “He was a good man, George Kirk. He stayed onboard and piloted the Kelvin into a collision course with the other vessel to give the shuttles time to get to safety. He died the day Jim was born, just as Jim took his first little breath.”

“Oh Lord. Jim is George Kirk's son.” Amanda glanced at her husband.

“Yeah.”

Sarek nodded. “Does his Mother remain in Starfleet?”

“Not anymore. She did for a while afterwards, but from what last I heard she is working for some company off world.”

“As she is no longer assuming the role of provider for her offspring, it behooves me to inquire as to who is currently acting as young Jim’s caretaker.”

Paul let out a loud sigh. “That would be Winona’s current husband, Frank. She married him when Jim was, lord he must have been about seven. Frank isn’t much of a Father of any kind, doesn’t have it in him to be one.”

Sarek appeared to mule over Paul’s words before replying. “This man, was he not selected to be Jim’s Father by his Mother?”

“He was.”

“Yet, you do not see him to be suitable guardian and provider for Jim?”

“No I don’t. That man should never have been left in charge of Jim and his brother. Hell, I wouldn’t trust him to care for my dogs, let alone Jim.”

Sarek nodded as if he had expected the answer. “That would coincide with what we have learned from young Jim’s behavior.”

Paul nodded. “It’s all in what Jim doesn’t say and that’s the problem. Jim’s too used to relying on himself, so he won’t tell the authorities what Frank’s done. It has, unfortunately, left us with our hands tied.”

“Indeed.”

“Is there nothing you can do,” Amanda’s voice was thick with worry.

“A couple of us go out of our way to watch Jim, making sure he has enough food and cloths. We give him odd jobs to keep him away from Frank and to keep Jim’s mind busy on other things.” That sad look filled his eyes again. “I think Frank might have actually left for good this time. If so we’ll need to keep a close eye on Jim. He got a bit…lost when Sam, his older brother, ran off.” Frank closed his eyes trying to block out the sight of Jim covered in dust, scrapes and bruises, sitting in the Police station, waiting for a parent that would never come for him. “In the long run I think it will be better for him though.”

“And if he has left,” asked Amanda.

“There will always be one of us here to take care of Jim.”

Amanda nodded obviously pleased. “I’m glad to see that there are people who obviously care about Jim.”

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

While the adults were sequestered in the library Spock and Jim were busy planning a vegetarian dinner with the supplies Mr. Freedman had brought over. It was easier than Jim thought it’d be, but then he had a lot of experience making meals from only what his little garden and the chickens could provide. In the end Jim was pleased that he could provide his guests with something other than tea and cream-of-wheat.

“So Spock, would you like to see the stars tonight?”

“That would be acceptable as I have not yet had the chance to map the stars from Earth.”

Jim looked at Spock and rolled his eyes. Obviously Spock was going to be obtuse about Jim’s ruse to get them some alone time away from the three adults. Well, Jim could handle that. He'd just have to be a bit more blatant about what he wanted once they were in the clearing beyond the tree line.

Jim smiled to himself and went back to the green bean casserole he was working on. Next to him Spock was peeling some carrots, his movements slow and careful. Jim tried not to laugh; it was fairly obvious Spock had never before peeled any vegetables.

“How’s it going, Spock?”

“It is acceptable.”

Jim smiled brightly and gave Spock’s buttocks a quick squeeze, making Spock twitch. When Spock turned to look at him, Jim couldn’t help but turn the squeeze into a lingering caress and Spock’s eyes became dark and smoldering with his suppressed passion.

Jim could feel his body flush and his groin go damp at the look, the promise, in Spock’s eyes. Dinner wouldn’t end soon enough. Maybe they could try for a little romp in the hay. All they would need to do was switch the temperature of the stove to something lower, allowing dinner to slow cook.

With a wicked leer Jim leaned over Spock and picked up one of the peeled carrots. Never letting his eyes leave Spock’s, Jim obscenely stroked the carrot. The tips of Spock’s ears went green, his lips parted, tongue darting out to moisten them before he looked away. Jim smiled and went about chopping the carrot up and quickly adding it in to the mixture of green beans and onions.

“One more carrot will do, then we can add some cheese on top.”

“Very well, Jim.” Spock continued peeling the carrot before gently setting it in Jim’s hand. His fingers traced Jim’s, lingering on the very tips.

“Thanks,” Jim’s voice came out breathy. His mind tingled pleasantly with warmth. “You wanna go outside for a while? I could show you the barn?”

“I saw the barn when first we met.”

“Spock, I’m not really gonna show you the barn. It’s just an excuse to go outside and well, you know…” Jim’s voice trailed off on a low, husky tone.

“I do not know.”

Jim shook his head and quickly finished the casserole before sticking it in the oven. Grasping Spock’s hand in his Jim headed to the back door, calling out as they left, “We’re going outside for a bit!”

They were out the door before any of the adults could answer. Hand in hand Jim lead the way to the barn. Once inside, with the door closed, Jim led him up the ladder into the loft. Spock looked around at all the hay and storage boxes. They were arranged in such a way that anyone entering the barn would be unable to see anyone up in the loft. Spock was pulled out of his observations by the touch of Jim’s hands on his hips, opening his clothes to reveal the smooth skin of his groin.

“Can I touch you, Spock?”

Spock swallowed and nodded. “If I may touch you as well, _K’diwa_.”

Jim’s smile set his heart ablaze, “Always.”

Spock let his fingers linger on Jim’s before moving to undue Jim’s pants, baring her tempting curls. Jim was quick to step out of his pants and pull him down into the hay. Spock watched her as she sat astride his hips. Jim was smiling at him, her eyes wild with her emotions.

“Do you have any idea how badly I’ve wanted you in this position?” Jim trailed his fingers over Spock’s chest and down his abdomen, towards his warm and welcoming pussy. “How often I think of your body, your touch? Of how you make me feel?”

Spock knew the questions were rhetorical, but he thought it likely that Jim would enjoy him paying attention. He knew Jim derived enjoyment from the sound of his voice. “How often do you think of me, _K’diwa_?” It was illogical to ask but Spock knew the answer would please him.

Jim trembled, his, her, hips rocking against Spock’s, allowing his erection to extend from its sheath and slide along her buttocks. Spock expelled his breath out his nose as Jim threw her head back and moaned out his name. When Jim’s head dropped back so that their gazes met, Spock was once again swallowed whole by the intensity of emotion in those blue depths. He was falling deep, lost to all reason, lost to everything and everyone but Jim.

“Oh Spock,” Jim moaned as she rose her hips up and off Spock. “You make me wild.” Jim blushed as he looked down at Spock. He could feel Spock’s cock - and wasn’t that fun to say - pressed up against his, her, backside. He could feel Spock’s pulse through the thin, strangely damp skin of his erection, sending thrills of excitement and anticipation down his spine. Jim was about to have sex, real sex, for the first time. Part of him was scared, because forever after Spock would be his first, and what if Spock left and they never saw each other again? Or what if Spock wanted to have sex with Jim just because he was a warm and willing body?

Jim pushed the doubts away, reminding himself that Spock was a Vulcan, and he wouldn’t hurt Jim in the way his classmates might. Sliding one hand over Spock’s erection, Jim shivered again. It was so different than the toy he had found in a box in the attic last year. It was slick and soft, but so much stronger than you’d think. The tip felt more pointed than mushroomed shaped as Jim’s own did, and he thought he maybe felt a line of bumps going down the length of the top, tickling Jim’s fingers and back when their flesh made contact. It felt like the shape was slightly different too, narrower at the tip and widening in the middle before slimming again at the base. The skin near the base also felt a little different, slightly looser maybe, Jim wasn’t quite sure. There was a difference there, he just couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

Licking his lips Jim leaned down to place a quick kiss on Spock’s lips before sitting back up, rising slightly off Spock’s hips. His fingers twined with Spock’s as her, his, other hand gripped Spock’s shaft so that she, he, could lower herself down onto him. It hurt a little as he tried to shift about so Spock could slide in. It was more pressure at first than actual pain, but Jim couldn’t fully hide the wince as the tip of Spock’s penis pressed inside the new entrance.

“Shit,” Jim moaned, his new inner muscles squeezing around the warm intrusion of Spock’s penis. For a moment Jim wondered if he shouldn’t have had Spock finger him first to loosen the muscles. Concentrating on relaxing, Jim shifted atop Spock, making the Vulcan moan and clutch at her thighs. 

Jim gasped as Spock’s cock slid further in, those little bumps along the top sliding along the sensitive folds of Jim’s labia as it moved deeper into Jim’s body, sending little electric pulses of pleasure through Jim’s body, making muscles clench and release with each new inch going deeper. Jim was panting and moaning, unable to remain still as Spock’s moved deeper, filling him in a manner Jim never contemplated before. The pleasure was so different than masturbating as a boy, but just as good. Maybe better.

“Fuck, yes,” Jim panted and cried out as she, he, took the full length of Spock inside. “Oh baby, you fill me so perfectly. So long and thick…so hot!” Jim’s hips rocked in small circles as Jim became used to the new depth his cock was reaching inside her, him.

Spock tried to focus on his breathing, to control all the sensations running riot in his body, the emotions overflowing his mind. He did not know how many more chances they would have to be alone together and he found that each one became more precious to him. He had only known Jim for a fractional moment of his life, nothing that should feel as if it was rewriting the whole course of his life in a single moment. But it did. He felt like everything had changed the moment he met Jim.

“Are you mine, Spock,” Jim asked, voice breathy and heavy with pleasure.

“I belong to thee, Jim.” Spock felt as if nothing so true had ever passed his lips before. They had not melded, they had no bond in place, and yet he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he belonged to Jim wholly and completely.

That warm emotion filled Jim’s eyes again, “I’m about to turn up the heat, Spock. So you best hold on until it’s over.” She began to pull up and off, plunging back down in a rush.

Spock pushed up and plunged back in a long, smooth glide, his cock rubbing against Jim’s clit, making Jim cry out and thrust back onto Spock’s length. Jim was sure he was making enough noise to bring Spock’s parents rushing into the room, but for the life of him, she, he, couldn’t make himself care. Every inch of his body, inside and out, was vibrating, singing its praise for Spock. Maybe this would just be a one-night stand, but at this moment Jim felt truly loved. She felt cherished and protected, as she never had before.

At that moment, James T. Kirk fell madly in love with Spock.

Spock found he didn’t want to blink, didn’t want to loose sight of her for a single heartbeat. His senses were getting sharper with each breath. He could hear the pace of her heart speed up along with her thrusts. He could smell the rich musk of her sweat and sex tied into the tang of dry hay and bovine. Hay and the wooden floor dug into his back, the pain a surprising counter point to the pleasure of her body caressing and hugging him deep in her core, her hips meeting his in a delightfully sinful clash. Her blue eyes were wide, watching him with a fierce yearning hunger.

“Do you like what you see?”

“Thee are beautiful, Jim,” his voice once again came out deep and husky, vibrating in his chest like the purr of a big cat, the sound filled with far too much emotion for a Vulcan not in Pon Farr. He did not understand how he had let this come about. It was not the Vulcan way, but a small part of him felt gloriously alive for the first time since that day he had broken Stonn’s nose for speaking ill of his mother.

“Close your eyes, Spock. Open your mind, let me in, let me touch your soul.”

Spock repressed a shiver at the looked in Jim’s eyes and did as she bid, though he did not know if Jim truly meant for them to be melded, his right hand still reached up to her face, “Thee already touch my soul. Thee art a part of me, my _K’diwa_.” 

Jim pressed her face into his hands, her breath teasing across his wrist. With trembling fingers he melded their minds even as Jim was melding their bodies. He knew this was dangerous. He felt as if they would consume each other, lost wholly in the perfect union of their minds and bodies.

_T'hy’la._

_K’hat’n’dlawa._

His mate, his love.

The words reverberated in his-their mind, opening a new door in his-their mind and closing, locking another. It didn’t matter that she-they were Human and he-they were Vulcan. They were _K’diwa_. They were _T’hy’la_. It was what they would always be, what they had always been. They had been made for each other.

His-their fingers moved across the curve of her-their hip, up towards her-their waist, fingers sliding under the hem of her-their sweatshirt, lost to the silky texture of her-their skin. His-their fingers were enthralled by the feel of her-them, by the flare of her-their waist, the lush valley between her-their hips and torso. Her-their muscles jumped under his-their touch, her-their movements on his-their erection hitching and jerking, breath gasping past her-their lips.

A possessive desire rolled through him-them. No one else had ever, should ever know how tender, how perfect she-they were.

Her-their rhythm changed, growing faster, deeper. A subtle trembling was working it’s way through her-their limbs. She-they were working harder, breasts heaving against the bandage trapping them against her-their chest, her-their hips twisted and bucked drawing gasps and moans from their lips. His-their hand cupped her hip, fingers stroking the jut and curve of her-their hip. Her-their hands slid across his-their chest, tweaking and pulling at the sensitive olive nubs before flattening out as she-they leaned forwards, twisting her-their hips as she-they plunged down and he-they surged up.

Her-his eyes rolled back as pleasure zinged along her-their nerves bringing with it a surprise burst of pleasure, bringing her-them to orgasm. He-they gripped her-their hip, bruising the golden flesh as he-they rolled over, straw scratching at her-their back as he-they plunged back inside her-their still trembling cunt.

In, out, in, out he-they moved, thrusts coming in rapid succession. His-their toes curled in the straw, back arching as his-their cock swelled, the bumps on top swelling to press against her-their uterus as a flood of seaman shot out, filling her-them with his-their essence.

Bodies trembling they collapsed to the straw, gasping to catch their breaths. Spock withdrew from Jim’s mind, fingers sliding over her cheek and jaw in a tender kiss. He felt strangely alone without the warm sunlight of Jim’s mind. Even the distant touch of T’Pring’s mind was vacant.

“My legs feel like Jello and I can’t feel my toes.”

Spock looked at Jim. Her face was flushed, pupils dilated, and straw tangled in her short golden locks.

“That was abso-FUCKING-lutly amazing.”

“Indeed.”

They laid there in the hay, trying to catch their breath as the world slowly came back into focus. “We should probably clean up and go back inside before someone comes looking for us.”

“Indeed.” Spock stood as quick and graceful as any cat.

Jim watched him straighten his cloths before standing up and going for her own cloths. The two were silent, moving quietly to help each other straighten up and make sure one last time that they were straw free. Jim tried valiantly not to smile a hundred-watt grin as they made their way back to the house, fingers gently brushing. It wouldn’t do to give themselves away. But it was hard. This had been physical pleasure on a scale he couldn’t achieve with just his right hand. The thing Spock had done with his mind, fusing them into almost one being so that their physical sensations were echoing between both of them, spiraling and surging through them in ways Jim just didn’t have the words to describe. It was sex and yet it wasn’t just sex. There had been something more. Something he just didn’t know how to define. Jim had felt something with Spock’s mind joined to his that made his mind feel empty and incomplete now that they weren’t touching.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Dinner turned out to be a fairly chatty affair. The adults, well mostly Mr. Freedman and Mrs. Sarek, were having a lively discussion about the latest trade agreements and colony expansion, while Spock and he played footsie under the table. When the adults spoke to them Jim and Spock would respond, Jim with much more enthusiasm. Finally the meal was completed and Jim had disappeared upstairs, quickly returning with an ungangly bag.

“Come on, Spock,” Jim grabbed Spock by the hand sending electric tingles and warm affection surging through them both. “I’ve got the telescope.”

Spock valiantly held back a blush at his Father’s gaze blatantly resting on their joined hands. His gaze rose to meet Spock’s’ a single black eyebrow rising in inquiry.

“Jim has agreed to show me the stars as they appear relative to this location.”

His Father inclined his head and went back to quietly drinking his tea. Spock’s Mother smiled and winked at him as Jim pulled him the rest of the way out of the kitchen door, her eyes sparkling with some strange emotion that Spock had never witnessed in her before. The other human chuckled lightly before turning back to speak with Spock’s mother, his lips quirked up in a sly, knowing smile.

The door banged softly against its frame, blocking Spock’s view into the house. Spock turned to look back to Jim, who stilled held Spock’s hand in hers. She smiled at him, blue eyes sparkling in the darkness of the Iowa night. “It’s not far. If we go past the trees there,” Jim pointed at the forested strip directly across from the back of the house, “we can get to a small clearing that’ll have a perfect view of the stars.”

“Should we not be worried about trespassing,” inquired Spock.

“Naw.” Jim smiled and tugged at Spock’s hand. “My family own 100 arces of the land around the house, though the back 50 are being rented out by one of our neighbors since we don’t farm it right now.”

Spock nodded and Jim once again began leading them to the trees. Spock watched the outline of Jim’s body as it moved, hips swaying. Spock’s mind, like his eyes, was focused on Jim. He could hear, and see, an echo of Jim’s thoughts filling his mind through their joined hands. What he saw there nearly stole his breath away. He wanted to imprint himself on her katra, so that she would never forget the feel of his mind, the touch of his flesh, his taste, and his smell. He wanted her infused with him so that everyone else would know that she was a part of him. That she was his and he was hers.

The night air was cool and slightly damp, filled with the alien scent of wet grass and foliage. It clung to the air as a thick perfume, striking Spock about just how foreign this place and situation was. It wasn’t all that long ago that he would have questioned the sanity of anyone who told him that when he joined his parents on their trip to Earth he would meet a human that could inspire such feeling in him that he would ignore how illogical the situation was and give in to the emotion of the moment, give in to Jim.

They exited the trees and stepped into the clearing. It was small, oval in shape, filled with long green grass, and an abundant array of wild flowers. It was, as his Mother would say, a romantic spot.

Jim set the bag with the telescope down and turned to face Spock, their hands still clasped together. He licked his, her, lips and looked into Spock’s eyes. He was standing so close Jim felt bathed in his rich scent. He smelled of musk, man and hot skin, all underlain with the smell of sage and hot sand. Jim wanted to lick him and roll all over him, just to keep that scent with him, to savor it.

Jim dropped Spock’s hands and reached up, fingers brushing those inky black bangs aside before dripping down to trace the gentle slope of his brow and the high slant of his eyebrows. Jim knew he had a horribly girly smile but Jim couldn’t bring himself to care. Out here under the dark sky, with only the moon and stars watching, Spock looked like some fantasy come to life just for him. The beauty of him left Jim speechless and slightly in awe. Never had Jim thought that he would have someone who made him feel special just for being Jim. It was nice not to just be “George Kirk’s son” or “that poor Kirk boy.” To just be Jim was incredible, but he thought that being Spock’s _K’diwa_ was even better.

Spock couldn’t get enough of Jim. The sight of her, the smell of her, the sound of her voice, the touch of her skin…it was all so incredible. He wanted to savor her in every way possible. He leaned into her touch and as she went to move her touch away he gently captured her hand, drawing her body against his. “You are shivering, Jim.”

“It’s just a little chilly out,” Jim smiled up at him, “I’m sure you could warm me up.”

Spock’s eyebrow rose. “Indeed.”

Jim chuckled lightly and pushed up on her toes, body pressing and sliding against him until they were eye-to-eye. With a war look in her eyes, Jim kissed him. She tasted of fruit and heat and her unfathomable need of him. She tasted of wanton emotion and devious desires. She left him dizzy and unable to decide whether to pull her closer or to push her away. He knew he wanted her in all ways. He wanted to burry himself inside her body and mind, to never leave. To always be touching. To never be parted.

He released his grip on her waist and slowly stroke her fingers with his own as his other hand moved down her back to cup her ass. “I burn for thee, Jim.”

“I think I burn for you too, Spock.” Jim smiled and, keeping their bodies pressed together, dropped to his knees before him. “Let me quench your desire.”

Slowly, never taking her eyes from Spock, Jim parted his robes, barring his flesh to the pale moonlight and Jim’s gaze. Her golden fingers reached out, stroking at his slit until his penis began to emerge and extend. The hot stroke of her breath over the sensitive organ seemed to make it swell and pulse with virility. She leaned forward, one hand reaching out to grip his hip. Slowly her lips parted and her pink tongue reached out, licking over the crown of him in a long, torturous, wet caress. Spock closed his eyes, the sight of Jim performing an act of fellatio on him burned permanently into his mind.

His eyes opened, locked on the sight of Jim, lips swollen and wet, tongue gliding, stroking and pouring over his throbbing erection. When she saw him looking, she pulled her mouth away and blew a breath of warm air over his wet flesh. Holding back a moan, Spock reached out, tilting her head and stroking his fingers against her lips. She moaned long and low, sending electric shocks of pleasure from his fingertips straight to his cock. He gave her lips one last caress before reluctantly pulling them away.

Watching her, Spock pushed the head of his aching organ against her mouth, parting those sinful pink lips. She looked up at him, blue eyes dilated with her desire. Her lips parted further, taunting him, her tongue playing with him, pressing and sliding against his sensitive nerves, and the base where his knot would form during Pon Farr, until he thought his precious control would snap. He didn’t want to loose control and risk hurting her; no matter how sinfully beguiling she made loosing control. Once again his hand reached out, caressing her face before gently tugging her against him, plunging with deliberate slowness into her warm, wet mouth.

Her welcoming moan vibrated into his flesh and the eager pressure of her lips made him clench his fingers into her short golden hair. With a small struggle he managed to wrench enough control back to relax his grip on her. It taxed his will power, but the need to protect her gave him strength. Her mouth clamped around him and she began to suck on him in strong rhythmic pulls, making Spock clench his jaw to keep from crying out. The sensations of her mouth and the environment surrounding them were nearly overwhelming.

“I want thee,” he groaned, barely recognizing his own voice. The sound was low and rough, almost brutal by Vulcan standards, but Spock saw excitement shine like a nova in her eyes. “I wish to be inside thee.”

Her skin flushed, her nipples tightened into hard little nubs and the rich, musky scent of her arousal filled his senses. The scent of damp grass, cool air and the flowers that surrounded them vanished. All he could smell was Jim.

Jim was reaching for him, her lips opened and swollen, pupils dilated even further until only a sliver of blue could be seen. He went to her, their lips touching, bodies burning with need. She stood, swaying in place, her mouth opened to him, accepting his tongue, sucking it into her mouth, pulling from him a deep moan of pleasure. He kissed like a human and kissed like a Vulcan, his fingers stroking hers. He could feel their minds touching, their desires surging between them connecting them, one feeding the other until Spock knew they would be joined as one, consumed by an inferno of their own emotions. At the same point Spock realized what he was doing, one of his hands had wondered between her sensitive folds. He now was kissing her lips, the fingers of his left hand kissing hers in a heated tangle. His right hand was lost to her folds, kissing her there as only a Vulcan could. She was so slick, so wet, and so hot it was driving a part of him wild. It felt so delicious, so illogically perfect that Spock knew he was lost to her. No one else could ever match and complete him as Jim could.

Pulling away from her was surprisingly hard, only the knowledge that he had to release her in order to remove her clothes, allowed him the strength to do so. The clothes were removed as quickly as possible without damaging them, and flung to the ground. Jim quickly placed Spock’s clothes in a pile on the ground and lay on top of them, her legs spread wide in invitation, her arms reaching up, beckoning to him. Carefully he lowered himself to his knees, crouched between her long legs. For a moment all he could do was look at her, captivated by her wild, golden beauty. Seeing her unashamedly naked in the grass surrounded by trees and flowers, with only the stars and himself to see her, left him drowning in strange new emotions more powerful than anything he had ever experienced before.

“Spock, please,” her voice was thick with need. “Please, I want you. I want you in me. I want to feel you!”

Carefully controlling his physical response to her, Spock gently spread her legs even wider, moving himself into place between them. “Are thee mine, Jim?”

“Always yours.” Her eyes looked up at him, dangerously serious.

With utmost care Spock slid inside and watched as Jim seemed to go crazy with pleasure. Her body arched, her head thrashed and a cry of pleasure, of…love, fell from her lips. Her body danced around him, squeezing, rippling and pulling him deeper. His hips jerked, driving his cock fully inside her hot wet, welcoming depths. He felt every ripple, every convulsive squeeze around his cock threatening to shatter the fragile control that was holding back all the overwhelming, primal emotions.

 _‘Slow and easy. Slow and easy.’_ He repeated in his mind. He needed to pull his control back from the fringes of his mind. He couldn’t, didn’t want to risk hurting her, not ever, and certainly not when she was still sore from earlier.

With all his Vulcan control he looked at her, laying beneath him, blue eyes blazing, and slowly began to move. Her eyes never left his, and Spock felt the rest of the world vanish. There was only the two of them. His thrusts continued to move through them, pulling up desires and emotions neither realized they had.

“God, Spock,” Jim’s voice came out in a rich breathy cry. “Please, harder. Oh God, harder.”

“Yes, _K’diwa_.”

Spock’s steady thrust began going deeper, the powerful thrusting filled him, stroking him until Jim thought he felt the heavens explode inside him, as if he was an empty void and Spock was the spark that brought the universe into creation. Spock cried out with him, trapped in a physic echo of Jim’s pleasure. He watched through her eyes as they filled with a bright light as the world exploded into being. As awareness began to tug at their senses, Spock became aware that he was still inside Jim, moving in those deep, powerful thrusts that brought his hips against hers and his erection hitting her cervix.

The brief joining of their minds through their joined flesh washed over him again, just as powerful and world altering as the first time. The need, the urge pounded through his veins, throbbed in his head. The need to bond, to mate fully with her was nearly overwhelming. It moved through him like an electric pulse. This need to complete the bond growing between them echoed through him, growing until it was threatening his control.

Spock growled, his hands spreading her thighs wider, his hips rocking powerfully against her until the length of his cock felt on the brink of overfilling her. He felt her barely suppressed cry of pleasure as his cock began to pulse and thicken, the nodes on the top swelling to rub against her inner walls, to stimulate ovulation. The feel of it, of his pleasure, of her pleasure filling their mind drew another orgasm from Jim even as Spock’s rocketed through them, his burning seamen filling her once more.

The violence of his orgasm left them both weak, trembling and very aware of what could happen between them. Spock closed his eyes and forced back the illogical possessiveness rising inside him. This feeling of belonging to someone and having them belong to him, just him, was intoxicating. He knew that living without her now wasn’t something he wanted to face. This overpowering need, the hunger for her, the incredible sexual pleasure was unlike anything he had ever known. Jim was like a physical manifestation of pleasure and comfort. She was the other half of him, the one thing he had secretly longed for. This love she had for him and he for her, the need would destroy him because he knew there was no way he could take her with him.

“I love thee, Jim.” The confession nearly broke him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for reference Spock is 18 during this fic and Jim is 16. Jim has skipped grades and is a senior in High School.


	5. Chapter 5

**May 2248 - Day 3; 5:30 am, Kirk Farm**

 

Amanda woke slowly, her eyes fluttering open. For long moments she just lay there, listening to the steady rhythm of Sarek’s breathing. The weight of his arm over her stomach, the heat of his body and the near silent whoosh of his exhaling breath brought a familiar feeling of security. Here in this old house filled with ghosts, his presence beside her was familiar, solid. Turning in his arms, she slowly loosened his grasp and crawled out of bed.

Sarek made a low growling noise and rolled into her spot on the bed, burying his face into her pillow, inhaling deeply.

Amanda chuckled and pulled on the terry cloth robe that had been placed in their room yesterday. It was old, the color fading from a pale blue to a dusty gray, but fit her perfectly and kept away the early morning chill.

With light steps she left the guest room and disappeared into the hallway bathroom. It took her only minutes to finish her morning ablutions. She would like a shower but she didn’t wish to disturb the boys if they were sleeping. Well, mostly she didn’t wish to disturb Jim. Spock, she knew, was usually up at this hour preparing for the day ahead.

Thinking it would be a nice surprise, Amanda headed into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. She was pleased to find the tea pot sitting on the table, steam dancing up out of the spout and two recently used cups setting next to it.

“It looks like they’re both up.” Amanda smiled and picked up the cups, quickly washing them before setting them back on the table. She looked through the freshly stocked kitchen, pulling out ingredients for a nice breakfast. Jim had been so kind to them, making him breakfast would be the least she could do. If it was possible she would have asked Sarek if they might bring Jim back to Vulcan with them. But that wouldn’t be possible for a great many reasons, the least of which being that his Mother was still alive and the courts were not likely to take the child of George Kirk away from his widow, even if they would allow him to be taken out of his step-father's custody.

She pushed the thought away and smiled sadly. Sarek's mind touched hers, offering silent comfort. Even with the sad turn of events, she was glad that Jim would still have the kind people in Riverside to care for him. She was glad all things considered, that her husband had agreed to her request to take Spock on a tour of Earth while they were here. As much as she enjoyed living on Vulcan it was nice to be back on Earth around other humans. _‘The boys are out doing Jim’s chores. Go on up and shower while I get your breakfast ready.’_

_‘A wise suggestion, my wife.’_

_‘Of course it is.’_ Amanda smiled as she went about preparing the food. _‘Women are full of wise suggestions.’_

Amanda chuckled at the silence that followed, picturing Sarek with an eyebrow cocked questionably. _‘Go on, it won’t take long to finish cooking and the boys will need it after you.’_

_‘Very well.’_

The house was surprisingly quiet in the morning. The only sounds were the hum of the heater and the sound of breakfast sizzling and cooking away. It was very calming in a way both the same and different than the sounds of morning in her kitchen back on Vulcan. This moment, like so many since they arrived, reminded her of her life before Sarek.

Amanda moved away from the stove to set the table. She quickly checked the tea, verifying it was still hot. A small plume of steam rose from the pot as she lifted the lid, filling her senses with the aroma of Jim’s Hucklberry tea. She would have to see about getting some of her own before they returned to Vulcan.

A shrill whistle pierced the quiet, calling Amanda back to the stove where the timer was showing her flapjacks, scrambled eggs and bacon where finished cooking. She quickly removed the first round of flapjacks, setting them as a stack on a nearby plate before adding more batter. After that she grabbed the spatula and began pouring the finished eggs onto another plate alongside the bacon. Amanda poured in the next batch of flapjacks before taking the eggs and bacon to the table, setting them closest to the seats Jim and herself had used the day before. Several minutes passed in this way until Amanda wondered if she had made too much food.

“Do you require assistance,” inquired Sarek as he entered the room.

“Assistance would be great.”

Amanda removed the latest batch of flapjacks and began pouring another. “Can you fill the glass pitcher with some milk and cut up some of the fruit in the fridge.”

Sarek nodded at his wife and set about helping her as requested. “If you plan to shower before the boys return I will attend to the food for you.”

“That’s alright, dear. I’ll be finished in a moment and the boys won’t be much longer. I’ll just wait until they’re done.”

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Same Time, Outside in the Barn**

Jim couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched Spock and Betsy have a stair off. Betsy continued to chew her food even as Spock stood rigid before her. The two had been watching each other for nearly two minutes, and Jim was fairly certain neither had blinked during that time. Apparently neither seemed comfortable with the idea of Spock milking her.

“Come on, it’s not that hard.” Jim’s smile turned mischievous. “All you do is wrap your hand around her nipple and gently squeeze it as your pull your hand toward the tip. Her milk will come shooting out into your waiting pail.”

“I am not agreeing to perform an act of such an intimate nature upon an animal.”

Jim found himself bent over laughing, tears gathering in his eyes. “Intimate nature…Fuck, Spock, you make that sound kinky. You’re not masturbating the cow! You’re just milking her.” The laughter was coming harder now, making him gasp for breath in between bouts of laughter. “Oh God…thought he was gonna…poor Betsy…masturbating the cow!”

“It is a valid assessment of the act which described.” Spock let his gaze shift to Jim, brown eyes turned nearly black, lips pressed in a thin line.

Jim took in a deep wheezing breath, trying to pull himself together. “Okay, okay. I’ll milk her. You can just sit and watch.”

Spock cocked an eyebrow at Jim as he moved away from the cow and her eerily lingering gaze. Jim shook his head and moved to sit by Betsy’s hip, placing the pail under her udder. Jim linked his fingers together to gently pop them before rubbing his palms rapidly together. Jim tried not to smile as Spock’s gaze locked on his hands.

“May I inquire as to why you are vigorously rubbing your extremities together,” his voice came out low and rumbling, much like it did just before they had sex.

“It heats up my hands so that they are not too cold on Betsy’s skin.”

Spock’s tongue flicked out to lick his lips even as his eyebrow arched into his bangs. “That is yet more data to prove that you are indeed masturbating the bovine.”

“No it just keeps me from being kicked by said bovine.” Jim looked up at Spock as he filled the pail. “If you touch her with cold hands. She’ll flatten you right quick. She’s very finicky about being touched. Just like a certain Vulcan I know.”

“You are comparing me to a domesticated food source?”

“Maybe.” Jim threw Spock a wink. “Maybe not. Although you both produce some tasty milk for me.”

The two continued to playfully bicker as they finished up the morning chores and released Betsy into the field. If Spock spent more time than normal gazing at and touching Jim, well, Jim wouldn’t say anything. He knew he couldn’t go with Spock when he left, even if he desperately wanted to. So these last few hours would be the most important. He couldn’t forget them.

They could see Spock’s Mother through the kitchen window as they made their way back to the house. She glanced up and saw them, a smile warming her face. Jim tried to ignore the way his chest seemed to clench like it was trapped in a vice at the smile and the reminder of all that he had been denied. Amanda gave them a jaunty wave as they got within ten feet of the steps, and eve though his heart hurt Jim found it impossible not to smile and wave back.

“You are so lucky that she’s your Mom,” Jim’s voice was full of such wishful longing that it made the primitive portion of Spock’s brain rage on Jim’s behalf.

“It is possible that she can be thee’s mother in the future, _K’hat’n’dwala_.”

Jim turned and looked to Spock, his hand frozen on the doorknob. He swallowed thickly, eyes wet and gave him a small, trembling smile. “I would like that very much, Spock.”

Spock inclined his head in a graceful nod of acceptance. “Shall we join my parents for the morning meal?”

“Yeah,” Jim gave him a gentle nudge with his shoulder as they stepped into the mudroom and took their boots off. “We should wash up first though.”

“Indeed.” Jim chuckled as they stepped out of the mudroom and into the kitchen. “Morning, Mrs. Sarek.”

“Good morning, Jim…Spock.”

“Mother,” Spock gave her a nod before looking over to his Father. “Father.”

Sarek nodded from his spot at the table, dark eyes scanning the two of them over the edge of his tea cup. “We shall wash up and return to share the meal Mother has prepared.”

“Very well.”

Jim tried to suppress a shiver as Sarek’s eyes met his. It felt as if the older Vulcan could see to the core of him, laying bare all his painful secrets. It was painful and yet…it didn’t seem as if Sarek found him lacking, there was almost a silent respect in his eyes. Jim felt his heart stutter briefly. Licking his lips nervously he gave the silent man a nod and followed Spock from the room to the sanctuary of her bedroom.

The two of them were silent as they made their way to the bedroom, their minds aching with the knowledge that soon Spock and his family would leave and Jim would be left alone…again. That they may never see each other again, and if they did…well, it would likely be years from now. Years spent knowing the other was out there, too far away to touch, to brush minds. It was sobering and painful to think of.

Jim shut the door behind them and looked at Spock. He stood there, hands behind his back, face blank, but Jim knew Spock was as sad about their soon-to-be parting. Before she knew it she had flung herself at Spock, burrowing her head into his neck and began to cry.

“I don’t want you to go,” the words were sobbed into Spock’s neck.

Spock turned his head, pressing his face into Jim’s golden hair. “I do not desire to go, but I must.”

Spock hugged Jim tightly to him before releasing him. He stepped away just far enough that he could see Jim's face while still keeping his hands on Jim's shoulders. “I will return for you, K’diwa. You shall ever be on my mind.”

Spock hesitated a moment before leaning forward to place a soft, lingering kiss on Jim’s forehead. “No matter how much time passes, thee will always be _K’hat’n’dlawa_.”

Jim clung to him for what seemed forever. He let out a shaky breath before placing a butterfly kiss on his lips. That brief touch of lips to lips trembled through them both, making their hearts pound.

“Would that I could linger in your embrace,” his fingers tingled and trembled with the need to touch her. “We require a shower and breakfast.”

Jim nodded, understanding that like him Spock still felt the almost overwhelming pull to reach out and touch, to drown themselves in each other, to become one mind and one heart. Jim was sure that it had something to do with Spock joining their minds during sex. Somehow, part of them must have fused together in that last moment of blinding pleasure and now the bond between them was becoming tangible, something that she could feel growing and pulsating in his mind.

They showered together, but unlike before they didn’t linger over physical pleasures. They took their time and washed each other with loving and reverent touches, their minds tinged with sadness. And if Jim broke down and wept well, only Spock would ever know.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Breakfast was a pleasant meal and this time Sarek even joined in the conversation and asked Jim questions about what he had been learning and what he planned to do once he no longer attended high school. Jim was happy for the most part, talking about his plans to either go to college or join Starfleet as his teachers recommended. Jim found herself revealing that he was at this point undecided between the two and that he had reservations about each option.

“You are an intelligent individual, Jim. You show many positive qualities that will greatly serve you in any future endeavor. Should you join Starfleet I expect you will make an excellent Captain. If you do not join I expect we shall still see you do many amazing things.”

Jim had been blown away by Sarek’s comment. Some part of him had been sure that, like Frank, Sarek didn’t think much of him was worthwhile. But this…this blew Jim away. He had been waiting his whole life for his Moth-for someone to tell him that, to acknowledge that his existence wasn’t a waste of his Father’s sacrifice. He had blushed and stammered out a “thanks,” even as Spock brushed their fingers together under the table, projecting his pleasure and pride to Jim.

Much of the rest of the day went the same way. Filled with quiet moments and warm conversation. A large portion of which happened in his Father’s library. Spock and Jim spent several hours playing chess, each winning one game. At one point Jim found himself even playing against Sarek. The older Vulcan had proven to be even more of a challenge than his son, his moves both logical and dangerously sly. It was an unusual combination and Jim had to focus completely on the board to have even a hope to win.

Spock had joined his Mother on the couch to read one of Jim’s books. However, he found himself easily distracted by the intensity of the game between Jim and his Father. If Spock was human it would have left him very uneasy to see his Jim tested as she was being. As a Vulcan though, Spock found it intriguing to see his Chosen K’diwa proving herself so well. It would prove to be helpful in the future when he would convince his Father not to reforge the bond between T’Pring and himself.

“Tea, dear?”

Spock pulled his gaze from the game to look at his Mother. In her hands was a metal tray with Jim’s teapot, four cups, a little bowl of sugar and a small pitcher of cream.

“Thank you, Mother. That would be acceptable.”

His Mother set the tray down on the small table and began to make a cup of tea for each of them.

“I am glad to see you and Jim getting along. I was so worried that you might not.”

“I do not see why you might have an emotional reaction. There was no data to support such a concern.”

His Mother chuckled lightly and glanced from him to Jim. “There was also no data to state otherwise. All the same,” Amanda smiled and stood to bring some tea to Sarek and Jim, “I am glad to see the two of you have become friends.”

“Indeed.”

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**2:15 pm; Kirk Farm**

 

Jim nearly jumped out of his skin when the phone in the kitchen began to ring with an incoming call. Quickly composing himself he rose from his place next to Spock on the couch, setting his book down and making his way to the kitchen. The vidscreen flashed the logo for the Blockman garage and Jim felt his heart sink.

Lifting the phone he activated the call, “Hey, Mr. Blockman.”

The logo on the screen vanished and Phil’s face, streaked with oil and grease, filled the screen. “Hey there, Jim. How’re you doing?”

“I can’t complain.”

Phil chuckled and leaned back from the screen, whipping his hands off with a stained cloth. “I’ve got the Vulcan’s hovercar fixed up. I can get it over there by three.”

“That’s great.” Jim forced a warm smile onto his face and ignored the heavy weight that settled in his heart. “We’ll see you then.”

Phil gave a nod and cut the call, leaving Jim staring at the blank screen. Taking a deep, trembling breath, he set the phone back into the latch connected to the screen and headed back to the library. Spock was still sitting on the old couch, right where Jim had left him.

Jim stood in the doorway just looking at him, trying desperately to memorize the sight of him there on Jim’s couch, in Jim’s home, reading Jim’s books. As if Spock could sense Jim watching him, he looked up, those dark eyes locking onto Jim’s own. Jim’s heart trembled in his chest, need overwhelming him. That need only seemed to make the sense of loss rising in him worse. He tried to push it down, back into that small dark corner of his mind that it had been locked in before Spock had come like a tornado into his life, ripping away the barriers to Jim's heart.

Spock’s brow furrowed as he watched her. A moment later Spock was setting his book down next to Jim’s and was rising to his feet. “Are you well, Jim?” Spock moved away from the couch, stopping in front of Jim.

Jim rubbed a fist over damp eyes, and tried to smile. “I’m fine.”

“Fine is unacceptable. It has too many variable definitions-“

Jim chuckled and leaned into Spock, resting his head on Spock's shoulder. “I am uninjured. Just a bit sad that you’ll be leaving so soon.”

“From your words I am to assume that the call was from Mr. Blockman stating my parent’s hovercar has been repaired.”

Jim nodded and pressed her face deeper into his shoulder, even as his arms rose to wrap her securely against him. “We shall be departing today.”

“He’ll be here by three.”

“Then we shall inform my parents.”

“I suppose we should…but, can you just hold me for a little longer.”

“It shall be as you desire, _K’diwa_.”

For several minutes they simply stood there, bodies pressed together. Jim’s head in Spock’s neck and Spock’s head resting against Jim’s golden hair, his finger rubbing soothing circles into Jim’s back. Finally the trembling left Jim’s limbs and he was able to pull himself back together. Without a word they moved apart and stepped out of the library and headed through the hall to the front porch where Spock’s parents were sitting on the same swing that Jim and Spock had just a short time ago. The adults looked up as the two approached, stopping just a few feet away.

“Your Nutrino will be here by three today.”

“Thank you, Jim,” stated Amanda.

Jim shrugged and leaned back onto the porch railing. “No thanks are needed.”

“Still,” Amanda smiled, “it has been very kind of you to let us stay here with you, especially since you didn’t know us.”

Jim shrugged. “I couldn’t just leave you out in the cold. And it wasn’t like you were going to hurt me; I mean you’re traveling with Vulcans. Everyone knows they disapprove of violence towards sentient beings.”

Amanda smiled up at him even wider and Jim was sure that he saw a brief flicker of approval flash in Sarek’s eyes.

“Well then,” Amanda stood and looked back over the front driver of the farm, taking in a deep breath of the warm country air. “It’s almost three now, so we should probably start packing back up.”

Sarek looked away from the view of the wide blue sky and the stretch of golden waves from the pasture across the way. He rose as graceful as a cat from the swing and turned to follow his wife back into Jim’s home.

Jim watched the two head inside. It was going to be so quiet when they left. He wasn’t sure how he was going to handle being so alone. Jim sighed, closing his eyes and took a deep breath. He wouldn’t panic. He was stronger than this. How many times as a child had he wished for Frank to leave, so it was just him, here in this house? Now that wish had come true and he was falling apart. Fuck that! He was James Tiberius Kirk, and Kirk’s don’t cry!

“You are crying, Jim.”

“No I’m not.” Jim ducked his head down and rubbed at his eyes. “I just got some grit in my eyes is all.”

Spock said nothing to that, he simply remained there at Jim’s side offering his silent support as Jim composed himself. An act, for which, Jim was very grateful. He had already asked for too much from his precious Vulcan. “We should head inside as well. We’ll need to make sure you have all your stuff packed and ready.”

Spock nodded and the two headed inside and up the stairs to the bedroom they shared. They were silent as they gathered Spock’s clothes, folding them carefully into his travel case. It didn’t take long for all of Spock’s belongings to be pack up, leaving the room looking as if he had never been here at all. They stood there side by side, hands tangled together in silent grief that their time together was so short and was now coming to a rather abrupt end.

Jim licked her lips and looked up at Spock. “Can I take a picture of you before you go?”

“Only if I may have a picture of you as well.”

Jim moved to her desk, opening the top drawer and pulling out a camera and a small PADD. Blushing scarlet he looked back up at Spock. “Do you have a PADD? I…uh, already took some pictures of me for you.”

Spock turned back to his travel case and pulled out a small travel PADD similar to the one Jim held. Handing the PADD over to Jim, Spock watched as his beloved linked the two PADD’s and began to quickly transfer some files over before handing it back.

Spock looked down at the PADD and opened some of the files Jim had transferred over. As his eyes took in what appeared on the screen before him, Spock found it was taking a great deal of control to fight down the blush that was trying to rise up into his face. He had seen his Jim bare of skin, her emotions and mind just as bare for him, and yet…the first couple pictures he looked at inspired some very strong emotional and physical reactions in him. There was something far more about these pictures that made Jim seem more naked in them than he had previously seen her and yet, she was no more nude in them than she had been when they had made love.

Spock swallowed and looked up from the screen to Jim. “When…”

“Yesterday, before you woke up.”

Spock licked suddenly dry lips and looked back at the pictures and then back to Jim, his pupils dilating. “Thee art truly wondrous, _K’hat’n’dlawa_.”

“Yeah, I kinda am,” Jim replied with a leer. “Now strip down for me and get sexy.”

The corner of Spock’s lips twitched up along with one sleek eyebrow, but he did as Jim requested. He followed Jim’s direction, posing and flaunting himself for Jim’s pleasure as Jim had done for him. If he aroused himself, and touched himself more than he ever had before, well…it obviously pleased his _K’diwa_. And what pleased Jim pleased him.

"Fuck, that's hot," Jim moaned as he watched Spock's fingers slip into his sheath, coming out slick and dripping with his natural lubricant.

"This pleases you, Jim."

"Oh yeah." Jim's hips shifted uncontrollably, thighs squeezing together as her arousal jumped higher. "Are you sure you have to leave? You can't stay even just a few more days?"

"It is not possible, Jim." Spock reached out, taking Jim's hand and pulling him down ontop of him. He wrapped his arms gently around Jim as she pressed her face into his neck. He breathed in her sweet scent and felt his erection pulse against her hip, eager to burry itself in the tight heat of her body. They had mated only a couple times, but already he found himself addicted. "I want you again."

"Yes," Jim keened. Licking at Spock's lips Jim sat up, pullng his shirt off as Spock rached up to unbind his breasts. Smiling down at him Jim quickly crawled off him in order to shuck his pants. Spock leered up at him, as much as a half Vulcan could leer. "One last thing."

Jim grabbed his PADD setting it upright and switching the camera to video mode.

Turning back to Spock JIm struck a pose, hoping that the tilt of his hips would look desirable. "We don't have long, but I need to have you one last time, Spock."

Watching him carefully in case Spock was uncomfortable with the idea of them being recorded, Jim crawled up onto the bed, laying down beside him, his hands reaching out to stroke over Spock's chest. Spock's hand reached out, cuping Jim's face before his finger stroked over Jim's lips, his thumb slipping into Jim's mouth to be sucked on. Jim smiled around the fingers, sucking it as his tongue played over the tip as if it was Jim's more favorite piece of Spock's anatomy.

Spock moaned lowly and with an edge of a purr as he pulled his thumb from Jim's mouth. Almost desperatly he let his hand cup the back of Jim's head, pulling her to him, his mouth feeding at Jim's with a need that sparked a fire in his belly. With care to her more fragile human body, he rolled atop Jim, lifting his mouth only long enough to draw a quick breath before tracing kisses along her jaw and down her neck. One hand slide down her arm to twin their fingers together as the other traced down her neck, over her collarbone, and onto her small breast. Jim let out another delightful keening cry as Spock's finger rubbed, and tugged lightly at her nipple.

His dick pulse and thorbbed between his legs, so eager it was nearly painful. Releasing Jim's hand, he gripped her thigh, pushing it up towards her chest, exposing that most tantalising set of lips between her thighs to both himself and the camera. He shifted his hips closer, the tip of his cock sliding through the damp folds of her pussy without breeching it. Jim cried out, ehr body arching beneath him as she tried to press back against his dick.

"Will you stay mine, Jim?"

"Always," Jim cried out. "No other. Yours!"

With a pleased growl Spock surged forward, his erection plunging into the depths of her body. Jim twisted her head to the side, biting the pillow to keep from screaming as he thrust faster and faster into her body. Those amazing bumps along the top of his dick were becoming one of Jim's favorite things very quickly as they swelled up, rolling along her clit with each inward stroke of his hip.

Before Jim was even thinking he was close to the edge he was shooting past it at the speed of light, every muscle clinging, his inner walls practing spraying Spock's dick with her juices as she plunged over the edge. His hands clawed at his shoulders, needing something to ground him. Spock's hips jerked wildly against her as he gasp and trembled along with Jim, his dick seemed to swell slightly at the base for a second as he reached his own orgasm, his seed shooting out, filling Jim until he thought it would spill out around his dick.

Jim trembled and gasp as a second orgasm rolled through his body at the feel of Spock's seed slipping out from where they were still joined. "Ohhhh!"

Spock dropped his head to Jim's shoulder. "I am unsure as to weather you are a blessing or a curse, k'diwa. You make me feel whole, but...but you make me _feel_."

The laugh that slipped past Jim's lips was slightly manic from the orgasmic high that was still tingling through his body. "Oh this wild, wild love of ours can't be tamed, babe. For better or worse, I hope this wild, wild love of ours is long lived."

Spock brushed a kiss over Jim's lips. "Agreed."

They laid together for a couple minutes as the last of their pleasure faded. Soon enough though, Spock was pulling his robes back on as if he had never posed for such sexualized images, or allowed Jim to record them as they had intercourse.

Jim finished downloading the video to Spock's PADD, handing it back to Spock. “Let’s head downstairs. I’d like to get a picture of your parents as well.”

“Of course. However I would recommend that you remove those pictures from the camera before we rejoin my parents. It is highly probable that my Mother will desire to procure a picture of us for you as well.”

“Yeah, better to play it safe.” Jim grabbed the small PADD again and quickly transferred the files over. “All set.”

Spock nodded, and bag in hand, turned to the door only to step back as his Mother opened the door.

“Oh! Spock, dear, you startled me.”

Spock arched a brow, but stepped back so his Mother could enter the room.

“Mr. Blockman has arrived with the car.”

“I am ready, Mother.”

“Of course you are, dear. But I thought it would be nice to see if Jim would walk us out.”

Jim smiled widely and placed Amanda’s hand in his elbow, leading the way out of the bedroom and back to the ground floor and the front of the house. “You didn’t even have to ask.”

“Is that a camera, Jim?”

“It is. I thought it’d be nice if Mr. Blockman could take a picture of all of us before you left. That way I could have something to remember you all by.” 

“That would be lovely. I’d love to have a picture of you and Spock together as well,” said Amanda, face glowing with her smile.

Jim released her hand as they approached the entryway where Sarek and Mr. Blockman were waiting. Amanda stretched out two fingers, tips gently touching Sarek’s, making Spock look away from their intimate kiss. “Dear, before we go I thought it’d be nice to get a couple pictures of all of us with Jim.”

“As you wish.”

Jim had to try not to squirm with delight as she handed the camera to Mr. Blockman. Amanda quickly bustled them all into position in front of the large fireplace in the library, the tall wooden bookshelves flanking either side of them. It was the perfect spot, Jim thought, for the photo. The four of them had spent so much time together in this room, filling it with warm conversation and joy like it hadn’t seen since his Father’s death. Jim found himself standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Spock, Sarek and Amanda at their backs. It took a surprisingly large amount of control not to blush, glance at Spock, or take Spock’s hand into his. Several photos were taken and Jim was fairly sure Amanda had given him bunny ears in the last.

“Now, Spock, why don’t we get a couple of just Jim and you.” 

Neither of them argued the request. They were too glad for the chance to simply linger a bit longer in the others presence. 

“These are turning out just lovely. The two of you fit so well together. A wonderful kind of yin-yang composition.”

Jim chuckled and this time a soft blush did spread across his cheeks as the tips of Spock's ears turned green. “Do you have a PADD? I could transfer a copy of the pictures over to it for you.”

“Of course!” Amanda turned to her husband, “Could you get it for me? It should be in the front compartment of the bag.”

Sarek disappeared into the hall, reappearing silently with the requested PADD. Amanda smiled at him before handing the PADD over to Jim, who quickly uploaded a copy of the photos. Jim handed the PADD back to Amanda, who gave her a warm, but sad, smile.

“We should probably head out now. When Starfleet heard we were here in Riverside they asked us to stop and tour the shipyard before we left.”

“Yeah? They’ve gotten pretty far on the newest ‘fleet ship. Looks like it’ll be a beauty.” 

“Jim,” Jim looked over to Sarek, startled the older Vulcan had addressed him. “Should you require assistance in the future you can contact us through the Vulcan Embassy.” 

For a minute all Jim could hear was static as his brain crashed and rebooted. “Thank you, sir.” 

Sarek turned and led the little group out to the front porch and into the bright Iowa sun. Mr. Blockman was already there, having stepped out while the four talked, and was getting their Nutrino back on the ground. Sarek moved to open the trunk and the two men carefully loaded the travel bags inside, giving Amanda time to hug Jim and say her goodbyes. Amanda pulled back, her hands on Jim’s arms and just gazed at Jim for a long moment before leaning forward to place a chaste kiss on Jim’s forehead. “Do take care of yourself, Jim. I would like to see you again someday.”

“I’d like that too.”

"Oh, and Jim..."

"Yes?"

"Next time you want to make out with my son try to make sure to hide the hickies." Amanda gave Jim a wicked grin as she pulled Jim into one last hug before turning to join her husband by the car, leaving a shocked Jim alone on the porch with Spock. The two spent a long moment again simply looking at each other, trying to ignore their embarassment at getting caught by Spock's Mom, as well as using all their senses to try to remember this moment forever.

“I wish you could stay,” Jim said sadly. 

“As do I.”

“Will I ever see you again?”

“Assuredly, Jim. I will return for you.” Spock stepped closer and brushed his fingers against Jim’s, carefully using their bodies to hide the movement from his parents view. “You are mine and I intend to ensure that it is recorded as such permanently.”

“I think that may have been a proposal of marriage.”

“Indeed.”

“Well,” Jim smiled widely and pressed his fingers into Spock’s. “Consider it accepted.”

“Spock,” Amanda called out. “We need to leave now.”

Spock turned and nodded at his Mother before looking back at Jim. “I will return for you.”

“You better. You’ve turned me into a regular lovefool.”

“I do not believe you to be a fool, Jim. I do not think you could ever be.” With that said Spock left Jim’s side and went to join his waiting parents. As he reached the car and opened the backdoor, he paused to look back at Jim standing on the front steps, her short golden hair shinning in the sun, blue eyes piercing deep into his katra. He needed to touch her again, one last time, needed every bit of connection he could forge between them. He needed it to remember, to convince himself that she was real, that she wasn’t just some folklore fairy come to him in a dream. He needed to know her love was real, that she was his now and forever.

Closing his eyes and centering himself, Spock raised his hand in the ta’al, “Live long and prosper, Jim.”

Jim raised her hand in what Spock supposed was an attempt at the ta'al, a sad, slightly lost look on her face.

_‘Take care, K’diwa.’_


	6. Chapter 6

**May 2248 - Day 11; 7:15 am, Riverside High School**

Jim tried very hard not to growl, or vomit, on any of the meat-headed idiots who were making off color or down right bigoted remarks to him as he walked down the hall to his locker. You’d think that in this close press of swarming bodies he could vanish into the mob, but no, that just wasn’t in the cards for him. It seemed the whole school knew of what happened and that Jim was the only one who hadn’t returned to his original gender yet. This of course led to a riot of rumors being spread about why he was still a she. Some were just crazy or downright obscene, and some left Jim a bit worried they might be hitting a bit close to home. He wasn’t sure yet, but Jim was anything but stupid, he knew there was a chance the improbable had happened between Spock and him. A part of Jim desperately wanted it to be true. Another part was terrified at the possibility it was true. Then of course there was the chance he hadn’t changed back due to one of his crazy allergies. Maybe it had left him permanently a “her.” If so he should really get used to thinking of in terms of being female, of identifying as female. That would be healthy, right? Honestly Jim really didn't care at this point. He wanted to go back to being a "he" but was willing to settle as a "she" if it came to it. A body was a body after all and didn't define who she/he was. At least that was what Jim kept repeating to herself.

Jim reached his locker and spun the lock open. Face hidden in the shadows of his open locker, Jim closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It wouldn’t due to let the masses see how they had gotten to him. Once he was sure his heart was beating human-slow, he grabbed his PADDs and tossed his bag into the locker and shut the door. Stepping back he turned to face the press of teenage bodies flowing through the halls like spawning salmon. With a deep breath he stepped in and let himself be pushed along until he saw the door to his class. Forcing himself through the mass of bodies, Jim jerked the door to his Anthropology class open and made his way to her seat.

It didn’t appear that anyone else had arrived to the class yet and Jim found himself quietly grateful. Setting his PADDs on his desk, Jim sat down, resting his jaw against the palm of his hand, and looked out the window at the fruit trees and shrubs the previous graduating classes had planted. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there just spacing out, but at some point some of his classmates had filed into the room, dropping their PADDs on desks and forming little chatting pods. Jim glanced around the room, taking in each group and deeming them annoying but generally harmless. Jim looked away and feeling a tiny bit lonesome, turned on the small PADD that had been in her pocket and looked at the picture of Spock and her standing in front of the fireplace.

 _‘If only I could have gone with you.’_ Jim sighed quietly and went to turn the photo PADD off when it as snatched from his hands.

“Hey!” Jim threw himself from the chair and spun to face the leering jock holding his stolen PADD. “Give it back, Shorrden!”

“Aw,” Shorrden looked at the PADD and back to Jim. “Does little Jimmie want her picture back?”

“Give it back.” Jim glared at the taller boy.

“Make me, fag.” Shorrden glared at Jim, some dark emotion hiding behind the blatant hate and disgust in his eyes. “Or are you too limp wrested to get your boytoy’s picture back?”

Jim didn’t know where the explosion of burning rage came from, but suddenly his mind was swallowed whole by it, by the need to defend his K’diwa’s honor and force this lesser creature to submit.

There was a loud clattering noise and a lot of shouting and screaming, but all Jim could focus on were the dark eyes so different from his Spock’s, mocking Jim's love for him, mocking him and thousands of other peoples lives and loves. There was a burst of pain in his knees and across his ribs, but Jim didn’t care. His fists were tight against Shorrden’s throat, his body heavy a top his, pinning Shorrden beneath him. ‘Submit,’ shirked his mind, and Jim was uncertain if he said it out load.

“Jim!”

Hands were grabbing his arms, pulling Shorrden from his clutches as those same hands grabbed his waist, lifting him away from the gasping boy on the floor. 

“Jim, calm down!”

The voice was familiar, the tone urgent but soothing. “Jim come on, he’s not worth it. Calm down.” Jim let out a shuddering breath, the red haze clouding his thoughts pulling back. “That’s right. Calm is good.”

Jim blinked and suddenly the room came back to full focus. Looking down, Jim noticed the strong dark arms around his waist securely holding him back against Scott’s chest. On the ground in front of him Shorrden Abernathy was staring up at Jim with wide eyes. His nose was bleeding profusely and his right eye was already starting to swell and darken. A small part of Jim’s mind smiled gleefully at the look of fear and rage on his face and the damp spot on his pants.

“You’re crazy, bitch! No wonder your family all left you,” Shorrden’s voice was still a bit high with fear, but Jim could hear his bravado begin to creep back in.

It was hard for Jim not to flinch at the words and if Scott hadn’t been holding him, Jim would have grabbed his stuff and fled. 

“What’s going on here?”

As one the students in the class turned to face the teacher standing in the doorway. Mr. Donnafrio was not an imposing man physically. He was tall and lean, verging on skinny, his dark brown hair was balding and his nose was just a tad too big. The only intimidating thing about him was his sharp hazel eyes, which watched them like a hawk watching injured rabbits. 

Jim swallowed thickly. Mr. Donnafrio may like Jim, but the other students were sure to cast the blame for the fight all on Jim.

“Shorrden started it, sir.”

Jim twisted to see Erica Kane standing a few feet away looking at their teacher. Her eyes flicked to Jim and then quickly back to the teacher. “Shorrden stole Jim's PADD and began to make some nasty derogatory and bigoted remarks about Jim and his family. Jim was only trying to get his PADD back.”

“Is this true, Shorrden?”

“Of course not!” Shorrden stood up and pointed at Jim, hands shaking. “The little fag tried to kill me for no reason!”

Mr. Donnafrio arched an eyebrow at Shorrden, his eyes almost glowing gold in the light. “I hardly think anyone, let alone Mr. Kirk, would attempt to kill you for no good reason. Also, I will not tolerate such derogatory terms used in my classroom.” He looked over all the students before stepping out of the doorway. “Jim, Shorrden, you’ll both go to the Principals office now and attend detention tonight. Scott, Erica, I want you two to go with them to give your account of what happened. The rest of you,” his hawks eyes moved through the room catching each student, “will sit down and attend class without any further outbursts.”

As the four teens headed out of the room Jim found his Photo PADD lightly pushed into his hands by a somber Erica. “Thanks.”

Erica nodded and continued to walk with him to the Principal’s office, Shorrden and Scott arguing as they walked just ahead. A small smile played across Erica’s features as she watched Scott browbeat the other boy.

Jim watched her watching Scott and Shorrden a little longer before looking away. The other girl confused him a bit. They had never been friends, in fact Jim was fairly sure Erica hadn’t even known he had existed until the accidental gender change. So to have one of the most popular girls in school stand up for him was pretty amazing. _‘Of course,’_ Jim wondered, _‘maybe she had an ulterior motive for doing so.’_ Very few people had ever helped Jim without wanting something in return.

Jim looked away from Scott as they entered the office. The receptionist looked up at Shorrden and Jim and gave a gusty sigh. She gave the two a reproachful look and waved them to the empty seats by the door. Using the old intercom she advised the Principal of their arrival and then quietly went back to reading her trashy romance novel.

The wait seemed to stretch on for hours, though the clock showed only fifteen minutes passed. Jim was starting to get twitchy, his right leg bouncing up and down, when they were finally called into the office.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**6 pm; Kirk Farm**

 

Jim tried not to sigh as Mr. Freedman’s truck slowed to a stop in front of Jim's house. It had been a long and trying Monday and he really didn’t want to have another adult lecture him on social manners and responsibilities. He really just wanted to get inside and look at his pictures and wish Spock was still here.

“Are you going to be alright here on your own, Jim?”

“I’ll be fine, sir. I can take care of myself.”

Mr. Freedman smile slightly and looked over at Jim. “I know you can. But there is a big difference between being able too and needing too. I know you can do this on your own but you don’t have to.”

Jim looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. The only adults who had ever seemingly cared about him had left, and those that should have cared never did. So although the words were a kindness, an offer to give in and let someone else take control, he found it hard to believe them to be true. Rather than tell that to one of the few adults who acknowledged his existence, Jim just nodded and got out of the truck.

“Thanks for the lift, Mr. Freedman.”

There was a small almost sad, knowing smile on his face. “I’ll have Scott pick you up tomorrow.”

“Ok.” Jim turned his back to the older man and shrugged his backpack on over one shoulder. As he opened the locked front door he finally heard the sound of Mr. Freedman's truck back out of the drive and leave.

Releasing a deep sigh Jim closed the door behind him. The house felt strangely hollow as if Spock and his family had taken all the life from the house when they left.

Jim looked at the empty hall before him and tried not to sigh. This place felt utterly barren without Spock and his family here. For the first time in Jim's life he had been living with people who seemed to like him and it was hard now to go back to the way things were before where no one seemed to care that he was miserable. That Jim was lonely and broken and waiting... He was tired of lying to himself. He knew he was waiting, waiting for a Mother who couldn't stand the sight of him to come home just once with a smile and a "I missed you." He was waiting for a big brother who was supposed to love and protect him to come back. To tell him he was sorry for abandoning Jim to their step-father and a life of abuse, hatred and self doubt. And now... Now he was waiting for Spock.

Somehow it was almost worse waiting for him. Jim knew Spock loved him and that he would come back, Jim just didn't know when or if...or if Spock would still love him when he did come back, and found not the girl he loved waiting but a boy in her place. Jim wanted to think it wouldn't matter, that Spock would love him regardless of his gender. But so few things had ever ended happily for Jim that it was a hard thing to believe. Happiness just didn't seem to be something meant for James T Kirk, like it was for everyone else. Silently Jim prayed that he would stay a girl if it meant keeping Spock. He would gladly give up being his Father's son for Spock and the love he offered.

Jim paused in the doorway to the library, silently forcing back tears at the empty room. It seemed to resonate all the loneliness Jim felt but couldn't express. For a short time, like Jim, the room had been alight with warmth, love and companionship the likes of which had not been seen in the house and lives of the Kirk family since the death of George Kirk. Now it echoed with the cold touch of an agonizing awareness of all that had been and was lost.

Jim forced himself to look away from the room and the memories that it woke. Finally allowing the sigh that had been building to pass his lips, Jim turned away from the room and headed upstairs. He still had homework to do, no matter his emotions, or how mind numbingly boring said work was. He couldn't let himself sink into depression. He was stronger than that. He wouldn't let his K'diwa's absence drag him into a pit of depression. He would prove Spock right, he would buck up and graduate with honors, he would go onto college and prove both to Spock and himself the he was a worthy mate.

Setting his backpack on the desk next to his bed, Jim quietly stretched before pulling out the chair and sitting down. He had work to do and he best get it done before he had to take care of the animals and he dinner.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

**Day 21; 2:15 pm, Riverside High School**

 

Jim really wanted to rest his head against the cold rim of the toilet but the knowledge that it was a public restroom, in a high school no less, held him back. The violent churning in his stomach had started last night and didn't appear to be going away. He wanted to believe it was just food poisoning but the fact he was still a girl while everyone else had already reverted back to normal, and the memory of all the unprotected sex he had, made Jim think it more likely he was pregnant. True Spock wasn't fully human and that should mean that as a hybrid he was sterile or at least not genetically capable of producing offspring with a full-blooded human. His green blood would make one think it more likely he could breed naturally, with only another Vulcan. Of course that green blood could also be the reason that this pregnancy, if Jim was pregnant, was hitting him so hard. He didn't think morning sickness was supposed to hit so early on.

"Ghuy'cha," Jim groaned out what may have been a curse in Klingon and pushed himself up from the floor. He couldn't stay hiding in the bathroom much longer. They were supposed to be preparing to practice the walk to their seats fir graduation.

Jim pushed himself up into a standing position, swaying slightly which made the heaving in his stomach all the worse. Taking a deep breath he stepped out of the cubicle and went to the sink to rinse out his mouth. Feeling a bit less rank with his mouth thoroughly rinsed out, Jim left the bathroom to rejoin his classmates out in the gym.

Scott was leaning against the wall by the entrance to the girls restroom when Jim came out.

"What are you doing?" Jim looked at Scott, eyebrow cocked up towards his hairline. "You don't need to protect my virtue, Scott." 

"Maybe I don't, but all the same, someone should protect you from the rabid harpies of Riverside High. Wouldn't want them messin' with your pretty face." Scott grinned widely at Jim, his white teeth shinning in his dark skin.

"You're being ridiculous, but whatever." Jim shook his head trying to hide his smile. Jim had never really had anyone stand up for him. His mother had abandoned him as a small child, his brother had runaway, and the step-father who should have protected him abused him more than anyone else. Scott was pretty much the only person who had ever stood up for Jim. Maybe it was sad that after elementary school not even the teachers had done much to protect him from bullies at school, or home.

"You ready for this," asked Scott.

"For what? Not having to deal with an endless supply of mindless homework and repetitive lessons. Or for stepping into the 'real world'?"

"Man, Jim." Scott shook his head, dropping an arm over Jim's shoulders carefully enough that Jim could have dodged the affectionate hold easily. "When did you get this cynical?"

Jim gave Scott a long look before turning to look back to the crowd of milling students. "Have you been paying any attention, Scott?"

"Oh come on, Jim. You've got to start seeing some of the good things about life."

"Yeah, well, not a lot of good things happen in mine. I'm not as lucky as you."

"Only because you look at everything negatively. Good things do happen to you. I mean just look at the Vulcan family that stayed with you. That was a good thing, right? You and their kid became friends, or more than friends according to rumor."

Jim looked away as blood flooded his face, turning him bright red.

Scott chuckled. "Maybe not so much a rumor after all."

"God, how did that rumor even start?"

"Oh come on, everyone knows Mr. Blockman is a terrible gossip."

"Great. Just fucking lovely."

"Don't worry so much. It's not like the rest of us didn't experiment with the new parts. He'll I heard Janey and Andrea decided to try out their news bits on each other!"

"Ugh...I so did not want to picture the two of them fucking each other while they were guys!"

Scott chuckled. "It could be worse. I could have told you the rumor about what, or should I say who, Todd Okartis did while a girl."

"Okay, double ick. I am sure there is something in the Geneva Convention baring that kind of stuff as cruel and unusual punishment."

Scott laughed loud enough that some of the kids standing in a little cluster a few feet away turned to look at them.

"Ok, students listen up!"

All the students slowly turned to face Mr. Donnafrio who was standing on the stage at the front of the gym. The teacher looked over the crowd, waiting for them to quiet down before speaking again. "We don't have a lot of time to run through this, so let's try to get this right the first time." 

Some students muttered groans while others quietly agreed they wanted this over with as quickly as possible. Jim found himself agreeing with the latter. He wanted this over with as soon as possible. He was tired of all the looks people kept giving him when they thought he wasn't looking. Some of those looks weren't exactly friendly, especially after Scott had pull Jim to his side. It might have been the 23rd century but there were still cliques, and Jim didn't really fit into any of them. Too much of a farmie for the kids who lived in town, too smart for the jocks, too fit for the geeks, and the other "smart kids" hated him for ruining the curve. Jim kind have wished he had been smart enough to hide how smart he really was when he was younger. As it was he couldn't really pretend to just be a dumb farmie since he had spent his entire school life up to 6th grade trying to be top of the class in the hopes that someone would be proud of him. That maybe his mom would find out and come home. It was pathetic.

Jim shook off the dark thoughts and went to focus on what they were supposed to be doing. Scott was still at his side, having already stated that he would walk with Jim during the ceremony. It had brought a kindle of warmth to Jim's chest, at least until he started to think that it was just because Scott pitied him for not having any real friends. The last time Jim had had a friend was when he was seven, but once Sally had moved away Jim had been left alone. None of the others kids had wanted to be friends, or had been too focused on becoming friends with the dead heroes kid. And despite being un early lonely, Jim had refused to have a friend like that. But maybe.... Just maybe, he could have a friend in Scott? He had forgotten how nice it was to have a friend until Spock had arrived on his doorstep. Jim didn't want to be that lonely again.

"Hey," Scott said with a gentle nudge. "Don't focus on the negative. Remember where you are. You are at the end of High School. Soon you will be at the beginning of a new life, a life you can forge on your own. A life that you can choose and shape."

The words sparked something in Jim, the promise he made to Spock lighting up inside him. He would become someone needed, someone Spock could be proud to call his, someone Jim would be proud to be. 

"Yeah."

Scott smiled, squeezing Jim's hand silently as the kids standing in front of them began to move down the isle toward the stage and the row upon row of empty seats. It seemed to go smoothly enough, but Jim found himself wanting to laugh, cry, and vomit when they were all ordered to do it again because a couple of jerks decide to do something stupid. The others muttered, moaned and complained, until it looked like a fight might break out. Finally Mr. Donnafrio was forced to take control of them all with his normal iron will.

Even after that it still managed to take nearly three hours to run through the walking procedures for the graduation ceremony. By the end of it Jim's feet and back were killing him and all he wanted to do was crawl in bed and sleep for a good twelve hours. 

"Man, I never thought that would end! Who knew people couldn't fucking figure out how to walk in line with each other. This makes me doubt the intelligence of all us humans as a species," bemoaned Jim.

"I think I'm going to agree with you this time, Jim. This was pretty sad." Scott rubbed the back of his neck and herded Jim out the gym doors into the parking lot. "Do you want to stop at the Ice House or at Murphy's for something to eat before I drop you off at your farm?"

"Murphy's would be good."

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

**9:32 pm; Kirk Family Farm**

 

Jim lay back on his bed, rolled over, and pressed his face into Spock's pillow. He wanted to think he could still smell Spock on it, but it had been so long since Spock had rested against it that his scent was just a memory now. It just reminded Jim again that he was alone and missing the first person who seemed to care about him, not about the genius, or the son of a dead hero.

Sitting back up Jim looked over to his desk where a small framed photo of Sarek, Amanda, Spock, and himself rested next to a similarly framed photo of Spock (one of the ones they had taken privately). It wasn't the most erotic one, just one that really personified Spock in Jim's mind. He spent a long time looking at the two pictures, taking in Amanda's smiling face, Sarek' piercing gaze, and the look of soulful longing in Spock deep gaze. For a long while Jim just looked at the image. Flashes of memory, the sound of Spock's voice, the gentle caress of his hand, Amanda's warm laughter, the sight of Sarek over the chessboard. All passed in front of his minds eye.

Jim rubbed a fist over his eyes, sniffing slightly before standing and moving to the desk. He stood there looking at the pictures before reaching out and gently lifting it from the desk. _'Spock, oh how I miss you.'_

Jim set the picture down and ran his hands through his hair. He could spend way too much time just staring into space thinking of Spock, longing to have him back. For those three days it had finally felt like he had had a family. A real family. Now that they were gone it was like having that gaping wound in his heart torn open even wider. While they were here, Jim had been cared for, loved even, and now they were gone. All the old doubts began to surface again and he began to doubt his memory of them. Had they...had Spock really loved him as much as he had thought? Or had he been drowning in teenage hormones like Jim was? Could it have been a whirlwind romance only in Jim's mind?

 _'Don't be a fatalist,'_ Jim sternly told himself. _'You know he loved you. You felt it every time he joined our minds. He does love me...He does.'_

Eyes growing heavy, Jim slipped into a deep but fit full sleep.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

**June 2248 - Day 25; 3:05 am, Kirk Family Farm**

 

It was pain that woke Jim. Not the pain of loss and loneliness that echoed through his soul, but a sharp, grinding physical pain. It woke him with a sudden gasp. As the fog of sleep left his mind, Jim found himself rolling onto his side, drawing his knees up to his chest. The pain throbbed through his pelvis, deep into his lower abdomen, and clear through to his back. The pain was sharp and fierce, burning along his nerves, leaving a heavy weight in his abdomen. Tears leaked from his eyes as he clutched at the bedding and tried not to cry out. The pain seemed to stretch on forever with no relief in sight. And then, as suddenly as it came, the pain dropped to a low throb deep in his pelvic muscles which slowly faded away. Out of the grasp of the pain his body seemed to hum with the sudden absence of what had felt nearly crippling. It was suddenly bearable to breathe again. Relaxing his grasp on the bedding, Jim stretched out, his muscles trembling.

Even when he had first gone from male to female the pain had not been that great. Then the pain had been a flowing wave of discomfort, similar to when Jim had spent too much time doing manual labor. It had been a dull ache in the muscles, not the sharp, wrenching pain that had localized itself to his groin and back.

Forcing himself up and off the bed, Jim headed into the bathroom. He didn't know what had caused the pain but he didn't want to risk any blood getting on the hardwood floor of the bedroom if it was just PMS. He was hoping that it wasn't some kind of spontaneous abortion. Jim didn't know for certain he was pregnant, but a small portion of him hoped that he was. The idea that a part of Spock was growing inside him was both terrifying and comforting. Though Jim was certain most guys would completely freak out if they found out they were pregnant with an alien strangers baby. Or at least he knew Frank would have freaked out. 

Jim groaned as his muscles protested the short walk to the bathroom. His legs were still shaking and he found himself listing to the side badly enough that he had to reach out to grip the desk and the walls as he made his way to the bathroom door just to keep from collapsing to the floor. He paused, leaning his whole body against the door frame as a small ripple of pain shot through his abdomen again. Although it only lasted a couple seconds, it left Jim gasping.

For another long moment Jim found himself unwilling to take those last steps into the bathroom. He was James T. Kirk though and he had suffered through worse pain and still managed to get done what needed to be done.

Taking a deep breath he moved out of the doorway and steeped into the bathroom, flicking on the light. Jim had to blink spots out of his eyes at the sudden light but he was standing and the pain had vanished again. His reflection stared back from the mirror, it's blue eyes dark with the shadows of restless sleep.

Resting part of his weight against the sink Jim push the pajama pants down his hips. The thin cotton pooling around his feet. With a flick of one foot he sent them sliding across the tile to the wall. A single glance had proven there was no blood staining them. 

Swallowing back an irrational surge of fear, Jim pushed up his top and looked down the length of his body. The curve of his hips were still very much a woman's but the length of flesh resting in a nest of sparse curls between his legs was very much male. Stunned and a little confused Jim let his trembling fingers stroke through the corse hair and down the silken length of his cock. Jim swallowed thickly. It felt like how he remembered from before the change, but that spot deeper between his legs still had that almost heavy, damp feel to it that Jim had begun to associate with his vagina.

Carefully he slide his fingers off his cock, over the slightly swollen flesh where his testicles should have been hanging to where the wet lips of his pussy was. _'Still have that, huh? Ok. I can work with this. Maybe it's just coming in a little at a time.'_

Jim found it strange that he still had breasts and a vagina alongside a mans penis. Yet he had no testicles! What was up with that?

Pushing hands through his hair to the back of his skull, and then back down over his face, Jim decided it was just too early in the morning to care about any of this. Opening the medicine drawer in the sink cupboard, Jim took out and swallowed a couple of aspirin before retrieving his pants and heading back to bed. He could deal with his fucked up gender problem later. 

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

**9:25 am, Kirk Family Farm**

Jim cursed as he looked at the glowing green numbers on his alarm clock. He should have gotten up hours ago! Betsy was going to be throwing one hell of a hissy fit about having to wait so long to be milked.

Cursing loudly, Jim threw on some cloths and rushed outside.

The back door of the house slammed behind him as he rushed into the yard. A moment later Jim heard some loud barking and there coming from the barn were two sleek forms, one a golden honey tone, the other a mix of charcoal and cream. Jim recognized the dogs immediately. They were two of Mr.Freedman's prize winning Salukis. Kalilia and Amin were well known in Riverside. They were one of the few things that brought people to the small town. They had won enough awards that their puppies were quite the prize from what Jim had heard. They were beautiful dogs, a bit more fancy than what most people pictured when thinking of a hunting dog, but they were great sight hounds.

The two dogs bounded over, tags wagging like crazy, as they jumped at Jim. The golden Kalilia gave a sharp bark and jumped up, planting her paws on his shoulder and went to cover Jim's face in dog kisses. Jim pushed, ineffectively at the hyper hound, and laughingly arched his face out of the range of the dogs tongue.

"Come on, girl, I already had a bath!"

Like normal the dog ignored him. Stepping back Jim tripped over Amin and fell to the ground. The two dogs took the opportunity and pounced. Jim's wild, hearty laughter filled the yard as he tried to dodge to overly exuberant dogs and their excessive wet kisses.

A sharp whistle had both dogs bounding away from Jim, toward the figure that had emerged from the barn. 

"Hey there, Jim." Scott smiled and scratched at the dogs heads. "Looks like you made some new friends." 

"Yeah," Jim grasped Scott's arm as the other boy pulled Jim up from the ground. "Any particular reason you stopped by?"

"Can't I just be neighborly?"

Jim rolled her eyes and gave Scott a pointed look.

"Alright, alright. I was just a little worried about you being here all alone. Especially since you've been sick."

"I'm fine. I'm starting to change back so that's probably why I've been sick." 

Scott gave Jim a doubtful look. "None of the rest of us tossed our cookies like that."

"None of the rest of you got stuck this way for so long either," countered Jim.

"True, but it is still worrying. You really should see a doctor just to be safe."

Jim rolled his eyes but nodded. "I already made an appointment to see Doc O'Neill this afternoon."

"Good. I'll give you a lift."

"You don't need to."

"Do you have another way to get there?"

Jim huffed loudly and turned to head to the barn.

"I already took care of the animals. The cows milked and the eggs are in a basket on the porch."

Jim arched an eyebrow and looked back at the porch. Sure enough, right next to the door was a basket filled with eggs. He must have missed it in his rush to get to Betsy. Giving Scott a nod Jim moved back to the house waving him to follow. Kalilia and Amin barked happily and ran circles around the two as they headed back. 

"Can they come in or should I have them stay outside?"

Jim looked down at Amin who had shoved his dark head into Jim's hip. Scratching the furry ears Jim replied, "They can come in."

Scott smiled and followed Jim inside, chucking off his muddy boots in the small ground shower, where Jim was already washing the mud off his own shoes. As Jim finished he handed the pull down shower head to Scott and shoved hissed shoes into the cubby. Scott finished rinsing off his boots and looked around the room. There was a similar mud room in his own home, though his dad had installed dog beds under the cubbies meant to hold coats, boots and other cold weather wear. Jim's was a little different, not as updated looking, but still nicely kept up. The walls were vertical wooden boards that had been white washed recently from the looks of things. The little ground shower seemed to be made up of old river rock rather than tile, and stretched up the wall to the ceiling. The cubbies were tall as well, though instead of having dog beds built underneath them there were smaller cubbies meant for boots that were part of a long bench meant for you to sit down when putting shoes on.

Following Jim's lead, Scott put his shoes away and hung up his light jacket in one of the empty cubbies, wincing as he noted the cubbies had little brass name plates above them for 'Winona,' 'George,' and 'Sam.' There were three other cubbies next to them, but none had a name plate. Scott winced as he realized that Jim's mother and step-father had never bothered to put up a name plate for Jim.

"Do you want any tea or coco," Jim asked as he opened the door that lead into the kitchen.

"Either if you're having some."

"So you came all the way out here just because I threw up a little," Jim commented skeptically. People just didn't drive this far out of town for such a reason. Never had, likely never would. 

"Pretty much." Scott sat down in one of the old wooden chairs by the kitchen table. "You're a good guy, Jim. And this has been some crazy shit we all went through and y of being stuck like this for so much longer than the rest of us is a little scary. I mean, I know there is a rumor that ...well, that you got impregnated by...uh, someone. But that's just a rumor. You've also got some more allergies to stuff than the rest of us do, so it could be a weird allergic reaction. Either way it has me worried."

Jim kept his gaze down at his hands as poured some of the hot water from the tea pot into two of the four cups that had been sitting on the table since Spock left. He could feel the heat in his face stretching all the way up to the tips of his ears. "It's....uh, it is possible." 

Scott blinked but took the cup Jim handed him. "I know I was teasing you about it earlier, but I didn't...I mean...really?" 

The chuckle that slipped past Jim's lips sounded a bit too self deprivation to Scott, but he didn't say anything. Jim was a pretty self sufficient guy and Scott didn't imagine he would just tell him all his deep thoughts and feelings. Sure they had known each other since elementary school, but they had never really been more than acquaintances, in part because Jim never seemed to welcome those kinds of advances from people. Though now that he was getting to know Jim a bit, Scott had to wonder if that was more to protect himself from potential rejection and abandonment.

"Yeah. Really."

"Okay then." Scott nodded. "What time is your appointment with the doc today?" 

Jim looked up at the old fashioned clock on the wall. Grimacing he turned back to Scott. "An hour from now."

Scott whistled, his eyebrows scooting up his forehead. "We should finish the tea quick then so we can get you back into town on time. I'm not sure how you planned to walk there with such a short time left."

Jim blushed again, gulping down the last of his tea. "I fell asleep and forgot to set an alarm." 

"Well then," Scott smiled widely at Jim, "it's a good thing I happened to stop by then."

Jim rolled his eyes and went to take Scott's empty teacup, only for Scott to stop him and politely tell Jim he would wash them while Jim went to get anything he might need for his appointment. Obviously a little frustrated by being treated so delicately, Jim stomped off down the hall and up the stairs to his room. Scott chuckled once Jim was out of earshot and pulled out his cell. Hit the speed dial for his dad's vet clinic, Scott let them know he, Jim and the dogs were going into town so Jim could see the doc.

By the time Jim had come back down, his backpack tossed over one shoulder, and a heavy hoodie on, Scott had wash and dried the teacups, carefully placing them back on the table by the other two. Amin and Kalilia yawned but got up from where they had laid down next to the doorway, making way for Jim and Scott to grab their shoes out of the mud room and to head back through the house and out the front to where Scott's Prius model hovercar was parked in the drive.

The blue hovercar was only about six years old and was in good condition too. Jim knew Scott had taken some of the mech and engineering classes that the school offered, and that he worked part time at M. Blockman's garage, but it never really registered that, that meant Scott could fix up old lady Carston's Prius after she drove it into Mr. Jacobson's orchard two winters ago. You could hardly tell the front end had been crumpled in.

Scott was smiling widely at Jim, when he looked up from where he was inspecting the front end for any sign of the previous damage. "Not bad right?"

"It looks almost new. Other than the gray patch on the passenger side, it looks good as new."

"Well, it took a while, and I still have a little trouble with the steering every now and then. Keeps wanting to drift to the left side."

"Still better than I could do." 

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Jim. You've kept this place up and running since...well, for years now. I wouldn't be able to do that. That milk filtration system in the barn alone is beyond my skills."

Jim smiled a timid smile up at Scott and hoped in the passenger seat, hoping he wouldn't notice. "We going or not? I'm going to be late."

Scott chuckled and got in, clicking the seat belt his dad had insisted on into place, before backing out of the long driveway and onto the road leading into town. "You want to stop anywhere else after?"

Jim paused, thinking it over. If he was pregnant he might need to get some baby stuff. He wasn't sure what, if anything, might still be stored in the attic. But he didn't really have a lot of money that he could spend either, not if he was still planning to go to college. Maybe he should think about getting a summer job in town?

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Alright. We can decide after the doctors visit."

"Thanks, Scott."

Scott let his smile wide, his eyes twinkling in amusement and pleasure. "It's no problem, Jim. I don't have anything else to do today other than bug you." Jim rolled his eyes at Scott, making the other boy nudge him with an elbow. "You want to stop for lunch at Daisy's Diner after?"

"Sure," Jim said with a small smile. Leaning back into the seat Jim gazed out the window at the passing countryside, wondering what Spock had thought of the view, and what he was doing now. ' _Maybe,'_ he thought as Scott continued to chat at him, _'I should write a letter.'_


	7. Chapter 7

**June 2248 - Day 25; 11:35 am, Doctor O'Neill's Office**

Jim had to admit to himself that he was a little miffed that Scott and he had rushed all the way into town for this appointment only to be left waiting for half an hour past the time his appointment was to take place. He hated sitting in waiting rooms almost as much as he hated seeing a doctor in the first place. Ever since Tarsus IV he couldn't stand going to the doctors. He couldn't stand the looks in their eyes when they recognized him, or the pity they tried to hide when they read his medical charts. He had often thought of simply hacking the system and deleting all his medical history related to the events on Tarsus IV, but some part of him reminded him that it wasn't a good idea. That if something went wrong in the future they might need that information to treat him. So he had, so far, left his medical charts alone.

He was sorely reconsidering that now as he waited.

"Jim Kirk," called a nurse.

Jim stood up, drawing her attention to him, along with the attention of a pair of elderly ladies in the corner and a mother who had been watching her three children play with the old twentieth century Legos set up in a children's waiting section. Jim stepped away from where Scott and he had been sitting, heading over to the nurse who had an apologetic look on her face.

"I'm sorry for the long wait. Doctor O'Neill had to rush to the hospital with her patient who came before you so she won't be able to see you today. I can help you reschedule your appointment with her, or I can see if Doctor Buechi is free today?"

Jim held back a frustrated sigh, looked over at Scott who was pretending to be reading one of the old National Geographic magazines from last spring. He didn't want to ask Scott if he could give him a lift into town again, but he also wasn't a fan of Doctor Buechi. The man was such a cold fish, and had no bedside manner! Even a Vulcan was more personable. Still, he had been sick for quite a while now and if it was just a flu or something they could fix with medication, he'd rather get that done and over with now. He had a farm to run after all, and no one to help him do so. But he hesitated because of the second possibility.

Looking back at Scott, then over at the woman and her kids, Jim took a deep breath, letting his eyes close for a second as he thought. If he was pregnant he needed to know. Not just because it would be a little bit of Spock he got to keep, but because it was a hybrid baby being carried by a guy. Sure it was theoretically possible, Jim had heard about the scientist working in Japan who thought they would be able to do it in the next ten years. But that was with medical intervention in a controlled environment. Not because of a crazy accident like Jim had, followed by teenage hormones.

Releasing the deep breath he had taken, Jim looked at the nurse waiting for his answer. "I guess see if the other doctor has space to see me today."

Nodding with a sympathetic smile the nurse started typing into her PADD. "He should be able to see you in a couple minutes if you'd like?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

"Okay." The nurse quickly typed him into the schedule on her PADD. "Come with me then and I'll get you started."

Jim turned and gave Scott a quick wave as he followed the woman into the back, where the private rooms were located. He tried not to let his irritation show as he followed her through the hall to a small room at the end. Like all doctors office the room was done in neutral tones and plastered in posters about common illness and anatomy diagrams. He still thought that was a little creepy, so like always he just ignored it.

The nurse stepped into the room behind him, shutting the door softly and waving Jim to take a seat next to the small table where the doctor usually sat. Attaching her PADD into the wireless keyboard, she began the routine of asking him about him symptoms. She gave him 'the eyebrow,' as he had taken to calling the look of disbelief he seemed to be getting all the more often since the accident in class, when he told her that he had been turned into a woman and that he was worried he might be pregnant. When she pulled out a medical tricorder to scan him, Jim felt a little less irritated. She might not believe what he said but she obviously had heard the rumors and was at least taking him seriously enough to scan for such changes.

Jim tried not to smirk when her other eyebrow rose to meet the first, the tricorder obviously showing that Jim still had a vagina.

"You did get yourself into a pickle," she muttered as she set the tricorder next to the PADD, uploading the scans into his medical file. "I'm afraid that the scans aren't telling me if you are pregnant or not. It is having a hard time deciphering your unusual anatomy. We'll have to do some blood-work to know for sure. I'll get that started for you, but the doctor will still want to look you over in case it turns out to be something else. We've had a bad case of summer flu spreading about recently."

"Fine," Jim muttered. He just wanted this over so he could leave.

Standing up she opened the cupboard above the little desk, taking out a packaged hypospray, popping in the glass capsule that would store his blood for testing. "Which arm would you prefer blood to be drawn from?"

"The right is fine," Jim replied, sticking out his arm.

"Alright." She took his arm gently in hand, washing the bend in his arm with rubbing alcohol, before pressing the hypospray to his flesh.

Jim winced at the quick whoosh sound the hypospray made as it pressed the needle to his flesh. The clear vial attached quickly filled with red blood and Jim stared strangely entranced by the sight. A second vial quickly replaced the first as it filled up, and Jim blinked as a wave of nausea washed over him. Closing his eyes he took a deep breath and tried to steady himself. He knew he should have tried to eat something before they let the house, but little to nothing as staying down and he was getting tired of vomiting up everything he ate.

"All done." The nurse quickly caped and labeled the vials, setting them in a tray. "I'lol just take a sec to finish this up and then I will get the blood-work started for you. They should know by the end of the day if you are pregnant or if it is something else causing the vomiting, fainting, and exhaustion."

The nurse typed in the last of the details he gave her, making note of his new height and weight compared to his last visit. With a final smile at him, she detached the PADD from its docking station attached to the keyboard and left the room. Jim groaned and slumped back in the uncomfortable steel and vinyl chair that looked as if it had been old even before the Eugenics War. He would be so glad to get this over with so he could leave and go get something to eat, maybe apply for a job in town for a little extra money. He didn't want to live on goodwill gestures from his neighbors and Scott's dad anymore. He was more than capable of supporting himself with a part-time job, the money he got from his land being rented out for farming and grazing purposes, and what little food he grew in his own garden.

Rubbing his belly, Jim let himself wonder what he would do if the test came back stating he was pregnant. He wasn't even 18 yet, and though he had graduated High School already he couldn't do much more than what he already was on that level of education. But if he had a kid Jim wasn't sure that he would have the time to go to college. Not as a single parent.

"I need Spock," he bemoaned.

A single brisk knocked heralded the door opening and Dr. Buechi stepping in. The doctor was in his mid-fifties, balding, and about sixty pounds overweight with a perpetual grimace. Jim disliked him immediately.

"James Kirk," he asked without looking up from his PADD.

"That's me."

"It says here you think you're pregnant."

"Yes." Jim glared at the man as he began to realize just how badly this appointment was going to go.

"Son," the doctor started in an overly condescending voice. "Did you skip the Sex Ed classes at school?"

"No," Jim ground out.

"Then you should be smart enough to know that human males do not get pregnant. Not even if they have sex with an alien."

"Yeah, well, like I told the nurse I was a girl at the time."

"Son," the doctor set the PADD down on the table, not even bothering to put it into the docking station like he was supposed to. His expression had gone hard, eyes flinty, and the lines around his mouth seeming all the sterner. "I don't much care for people wasting my time."

"I don't either, and I would appreciate it if you stopped calling me 'son.' As far I am aware we have no familial relation."

The doctor glared at Jim, his displeasure almost palpable. "I think you need to leave."

Jim glared right back at the man. Jumping to his feet he stormed to the door, throwing it open. Pausing in the doorway he turned to look back at the doctor, ignoring the curious gazes of the nurses in the hallway. "And I think you need to get a bedside manner. Your's is atrocious."

Pushing past the nurses, Jim tried not to cry. He wouldn't normally but it felt like all his emotions had been a jumbled since Spock left. He found himself getting bored, frustrated, and a grey out of the blue for no reason. Or if he already felt that way it was like the emotions were magnified and doubling back on him, making it all the worse. He didn't know what was causing it, but he supposed it could be all the wacky hormones running through his system.

Quickly wiping away the dampness forming in the corners of his eyes, Jim pushed his way out into the lobby, practically running to where Scott was sitting. "Let's go."

Scott looked up at Jim, eyes moving over Jim, taking in the tears and the way his nostrils were flaring as he tried to calm his breathing back down. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Jim," Scott stood up reaching for Jim, but Jim moved too fast. Twisting out of Scott's grasp he made his way to he door leading outside. "Jim! Wait up."

Halfway into the parking lot Jim stopped.

"Jim," Scott said, his voice low and smooth like he was trying to sooth a wounded animal. "You want to tell me what happened in there and if I need to go blacken the doc's eye for you."

Jim snorted, his lips twisting up just slightly before drooping again into a frown. "It's nothing."

"It's obviously something if it has you spitting mad." Scott stepped closer, gently putting his hands on Jim's shoulders, turning Jim to face him. "If he did something, said something inappropriate-"

Jim glared up at Scott, his hands clenching into white-knuckled fists at his side.

"Okay." Scott looked back to the doctors office. "You give me five minutes and I'll get you an apology."

"No."

"Jim-"

"No. Just leave it. I knew going in that he would act that way. Dr. Buechi has always hated me." Jim's shoulders sagged as the fight left him. "Can we just get something to eat and go home. I need a nap."

Scott looked at Jim for a long moment, his eyes slowly softening. "Alright."

"Thanks."

With a sad smile, Scott led Jim to his Prius. He opened the door for Jim, waiting until Jim was inside and buckling his seat belt, before going around the hovercar to the drivers side, to get in himself. "How 'bout we stop at Daisy's Diner and get some apple pie with our lunch?"

Jim smiled weakly and leaned back in the seat. "Pie sounds good."

The two of the drove through town to the diner in silence. It wasn't a bad silence, but Jim knew Scott would have liked to have Jim tell him what happened. Scott was a good guy and he didn't need a record for assaulting the doctor over Jim. Jim had given up on the need for someone defending his honor and self esteem, years ago. He knew who he was, and he could take the shit other people were willing to deal out to him. Still, a part of him whispered, it was nice to see that someone else cared about him.

Jim glanced out the window, trying to hide the blush that had risen on his cheeks as he realized that for the first time in his life he had a friend. A friend who _cared_ about him. The only other people to care for him were gone. One dying the day he was born, and then second back to his home planet. So it was nice to have someone here, close by, who cared if he ate, or had enough food for meals, or if he needed a lift to town, or help on the farm.

Jim smiled as the truck pulled into the parking lot, the anger and hurt form the doctors visit fading into the background.

Daisy’s Diner was a kind of kitchy throwback dinner, but Jim loved it. The diner had been created by a retired Starfleet instructor, Dale Johansen, and his wife. Dale had taught introductory chemistry at Starfleet for years where he met and married Lissan P'Trell of Andora. Two years ago the couple had moved back to Riverside and become the first interspecies couple to live in the small town. Jim could remember the stir it caused at the time, but fortunately the people of the town were generally kind and after they got to know Lissan, they had welcomed her into the fold. It didn’t hurt that Lissan had a fondness for 20th century Earth cultures.

About four months after moving into town she had opened a small roadside style diner. It was this beautiful steal building with wide windows stretching the length of the front and side, with sun yellow cloth awnings, gentle curves at the corners, and a red rooftop. The steal walls looked like high end corrugated steal that turned into Greek style columns at the corners. Jim loved the classic look of it, as if it had been there since before the Eugenics War. But then Jim loved old things. Old buildings, old cars, paper books. He just loved the look of them, the feel of them, and even the smell (of the books at least).

Jim had thought on more than one occasion that as lovely as the diner was it wasn't near as lovey as its owner. Lissan was the only member of Starfleet that Jim had met who did not cared that he was the son of Captain George Kirk. She treated him like he was anyone else, with a warm smile when he was nice, and a swift kick to the rear when he was causing trouble. Jim had started to think she might be the closest thing to a Mom that he would ever get. True they didn't socialize outside of the diner any more than a a quick 'Hello, how are you' kinda deal, but at least she thought of him as a person and not a legacy.

Ignoring the looks he got for still being a girl, Jim followed Scott into the diner and to a booth in the corner. It had a wide set of windows giving them a nice view of the parking lot, as well as granting them some privacy since there was only one booth next to them and it was empty. Lissan an smiled at them from the counter were she was setting down a large plate filled with eggs, hash browns, and a steak.

Jim gave her a lopsided smile as she moved from behind the counter to where they were sitting.

"How are you two gentlemen doing today?"

Scott chuckled and smiled widely up at her, his foot nudging Jim's beneath the table. "Not bad, though I'm sure Jim here has had a better day."

"Oh," she said, concern heavy in her voice.

Jim grumbled and crossed his arms over his tender chest. "I had to go to the doctor but got stuck with Dr. Buechi. The ass."

Lissan nodded knowingly. "I hate getting stuck seeing him too. So I've started requesting appointments with Starfleet doctors instead."

"You do?"

"Yup. Anyone currently, formerly, or the child of, a Starfleet officer, can get free medical coverage through Starfleet." Her brows lowered, eyes narrowing as she looked at Jim. "Did your mother not tell you?"

Jim shrugged, pretending for all he was worth that the comment didn't hurt. "Haven't seen her since elementary school."

Lissan cursed a blue streak in Andorii. "Then a Starfleet rep should have been sent to you after she went on her first long term mission to go over your benefits as her son."

Jim glanced away, uncomfortable with her anger on his behalf. He wasn't used to it. He was used to the carefully hidden looks of pity, and the not so carefully hidden looks of disdain or frustration. But rarely, if ever, had anyone looked so righteously angry on his behalf.

"Well," she huffed, scowl in place. "I will make you a copy of the documents regarding benefits to spouses and children of Starfleet employees, and I will most definitely to speaking to someone at Starfleet about their oversight."

"It's alright-"

"It is not," she replied, cutting Jim off sharply. "You are a child in the eyes of your people and the Federation. You should not be having to worry about these kinds of things."

Jim's eyes widened, his cheek flushing a bright strawberry red before he could jerk his head downward, allowing the longer bangs to hide his face somewhat. Nervously, he tugged at his shirt. Scott watched him carefully from across the table, his foot a solid presence against the side of Jim's own. Jim really didn't know how to handle this kind of situation, and the embarrassment he felt about someone actually seeming to care, and making that care loudly public, compounded the problem.

Lissan huffed out her annoyance once more before bringing herself back under control. Ignoring the other patrons that were now watching them, she quickly asked for their orders, ruffled Jim's hair for good measure, and then stomped off towards the kitchen.

Scott's smiled widened until it took up practically all his face. Jim glanced up at him from under his bangs and blushed harder at the amused expression, before turning to stair out the window as if he wasn't embarrassed by the whole thing.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

**Several Hours Later; Kirk Family Farm**

 

Jim flopped back onto his bed. It had been a long day, even with Scott's help in town and on the farm. He was truly grateful for all the help Scott, and his Dad, had been providing. But part of him was angry over it as well. Not so much at them, as at his own family and himself. Jim had practically run the farm on his own since he was ten and Sam ran away. He hadn't needed help then, so he shouldn't need it now. Hell, they didn't even have as many animals or crops to manage as they did back then.

Jim pressed the heels of his palms over his eyes.

He was just so tired all the time recently. He never seemed to get enough sleep, and there never seemed to be enough time in the day to do everything he needed to do. He still had so many unfinished projects on the house itself to fix. There was a loose patch of roofing above the master bedroom, there were termites eating at the back pouch stairs, the windows needed to be re-sealed, and the whole house needed to be painted again. All of that we're only the outside problems! They didn't even cover the problems he had found inside the house, and Jim was so very grateful that Spock and his family, had not noticed, or commented on any if they had noticed, all the problems. Even with the money coming in from the back fifty being rented out, Jim didn't have enough money free on hand to restore the house to its glory and keep the animals and himself fed.

He didn't want to carry these burdens. He should be free to party and go wild like all his classmates. But he wasn't. He was trapped playing adult before he was even legally allowed to vote! So of course that meant he couldn't really afford college as well. Which left him trapped here in Riverside without any future.

Jim groaned and rolled over onto his belly, burying his face into Spock's pillow. He needed help to run the farm, he needed money to fix the house, and he needed money and time for college. He needed a job if he wanted money, but he didn't have time for more work. Rolling over again, Jim glared at the bottom of the bunk above him as if it was the source of all his problems and all the answers.

He knew what he had to do. He knew what he wanted to do. And he knew what he should do. The first thing he should do is see if Scott was willing to keep helping him with the work around the farm so Jim could try to fix what little he could of the house on the limited funds he had access to at the bank as a minor. Scott was a nice guy and Jim was worried that he was taking advantage of that kindness by asking Scott for so much help when Scott should be preparing for college. But what other choice did Jim have? Jim did not have any family left in Riverside. Perhaps even in Iowa. Perhaps even on earth. He had no clue as to where his mother was currently stationed. And he certainly had no clue as to where his older brother could be right now. His aunt and Uncle were dead now, and Frank was gone. Of course even when Frank was here his help was not an option. While Frank had had a steady paycheck, which he always cashed out and left sitting around, he really didn't do anything else that was at all helpful. In fact things were better with him gone because now he could not ruin what Jim had already fixed.

"Happy thoughts, Jim," he mumbled to himself. "You've gotta think happy thoughts."

Sitting up Jim reached over to pick up the PADD sitting on his desk. He knew the pass codes to the encryption by heart now, he had looked at the files contained on it so often. After Shrroden nearly got a hold of it Jim wasn't willing to give anyone else the chance to see the pictures, or video, that Spock had left him with. They were meant for Jim's eyes only and Jim planned to keep it that way.

Jim paused, holding the PADD in his hand. He wanted to see Spock’s face, needed to see it, but he wasn’t sure that pictures were going to be enough. He wanted Spock here with him. He wanted the safety and comfort of Spock’s strong presence beside him. His life was spinning out of control and as much as he wanted to pretend it would all be okay, it wasn’t. His heart was pounding wildly in his chest so hard he thought it might burst out of his chest while he sat there gasping, and trying not to cry.

He dropped the PADD and grabbed at his chest, leaning forward so his head was between his knees. He hadn’t felt this panicked since Tarsus IV. He had been sure he was past this. He hadn’t had a panic attack, or something resembling it in years. He was better than this. Sure everyone had left him. Sure his house was falling apart. Sure he had no source of income. Sure he might be pregnant with an alien baby. But he was alive. He had a real friend for the first time since Tarsus IV. He no longer had to worry about Frank. Things were actually pretty decent in his life. Not great. Not even good. But not bad enough that he had to break down like he had in that cave years ago, after watching all those people be murdered.

Taking a long, deep breath, Jim closed his eyes and focused on calming down. It took a few minutes, but once his heart didn't feel like it was going to jump out of his chest, Jim sat back up and opened his eyes.

If he thought about it positively, then this wasn’t a bad one. It hadn’t lasted more than five minutes. Before they had last for half an hour or longer. This was good. It was likely just triggered by his worry over what would happen next, and his exhaustion. If he could work something out with Scott to help around the farm, and if he maybe traded some of his crops or extra milk, he might be able to get some of the supplies he needed to fix the house, or the labor for things like the faulty wiring in the dinning room, to be fixed without draining what little savings he had access to. It would be hard, harder than it had when Frank was here, but it could be done. He could do this.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

**Day 27; 7:25 am, Kirk Family Farm**

 

Jim had never been more happy to wake up and not feel like he was going to toss his cookies, than he was this morning. Scott and his dad were coming over today to help him fix the roof, and Jim had pulled some money from savings to pay for an exterminator to get ride of the termites. He had already taken care of Betsy and the chickens, and he still had an hour at least until the others got here. Stretching, Jim decided to finish cleaning out the master bedroom. He had only started last night and it would likely take another day or two at the rate he was going. But he needed to do it. Anything of Frank's left behind was going to be tossed or burned, and as for his mother's things...well, he supposed he could donate the clothes and decide on the rest individually.

Heading up the stairs Jim snagged the PADD he used in school and opened the file he had created last night to catalogue all the items in the house. He had started it almost three years ago after he noticed some missing items. Once he knew Frank was stealing stuff and selling it off he was able to talk to the local police, not that they could do anything since he was Winona's husband and was a legal owner of the stuff. But it had made Jim feel better to keep a record of all his family belongs, and to make sure other people knew Frank was selling them. And when a few items mysteriously showed up in the barn a couple weeks later, Jim had only been able to silently thank whoever had returned them.

Setting the PADD down on the dresser, Jim opened the top drawer and began pulling out the clothes, setting them down on the bed before going back for more. It was only a matter of minutes to empty all six drawers of their contents. Jim gazed sadly at the pile of clothes. Frank must have taken most of his own, but left all of his mothers things behind. There were three silk nightgowns, a heavy pair of women’s flannel winter pajamas, and one cotton nightgown. There had been two pairs of blue jeans, one pair of khaki shorts, two sweaters, and ten teeshirts. There had been no underwear, for which Jim had been extremely grateful. Opening one of the cardboard boxes he had picked up the other day while in town, Jim began filling it with the clothes.

As he picked up the final piece of clothing, a thick wool sweater with a reindeer pulling a starship, Jim paused. A flash of memory flickered through his mind. It was from years ago, before Tarsus, before his mother left. When they had been a family.

He could remember snow piled up on the roof and all over the yard, his breath a thick fog, and his Mom sitting on the porch laughing as Sam threw a snowball at them, their wolf/german shepherd hybrid, Thor, barking and bouncing through the storm. His near entirely black fur frosted in white from the snow, pink tongue lolling about, tail wagging furiously. Jim could remember crying out as the snowball hit the back of his neck, dripping down his spine and then Sam panicked cry as Thor toppled him over as he bounded past, their mom nearly falling over from laughing so hard.

Jim set the sweater back down on the bed.

He had picked out the sweater for his mom for Christmas. His grandfather Tiberius had been the one to take him out to pick out her gift. And Thor…Thor had been the last gift his grandfather had given him. His grandfather had found him in the local pound. No one had wanted to buy a dog that was a quarter wolf, worried that the animal would hurt them. But his grandfather hadn’t been afraid and neither had Jim. Thor had been the best friend he ever had, and the most loyal. After his grandfather died and his mother left, Thor had been the only one capable of protecting Sam and him from Frank. And that memory of the day in the snow was one of the last happy memories he had with his mom.

“Jim,” called Scott from downstairs.

Shaking himself free from the memories, Jim turned and left the room, softly closing the door behind him.

“Coming,” he called back.

Scott and his father were standing in the hall by the stairwell, looking up at him. Scott had a wide welcoming smile stretching across his face as Jim approached. Jim felt heat pulse in his cheeks and pushed it away. Spock had proposed to him, and he planned to be faithful until they could meet again. So he could ignore the warm feelings that he felt occasionally for Scott. It was nothing more than gratitude after all.

“What time is the exterminator getting here,” asked Mr. Freedman.

“Not for another,” Jim looked at the battered watch on his wrist, “two hours.”

“Well then.” He clapped his hands together. “If you are ready we’ve got the supplies unload and on the porch. We can start fixing it up.”

“Alright.” Jim made his way down the last few steps. “Let’s get to work.”

Scott smiled and draped his arm over Jim’s shoulder. “You feeling any better?”

“I didn’t throw up this morning if that is what you are wanting to know.”

“That’s good.” Scott leaned in closer, whispering into his ear. “Are you sure you aren’t…you know?”

“The doctor said no, but I haven’t went out and bought a test myself.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Maybe,” Jim whispered, one handwriting out to briefly touch his stomach.

The rest of the day passed in pleasant companionship. Scott and Jim laughing as they worked on replacing the shingles, Mr. Freedman laughing at them as Scott caught his thumb with a hammer on more than one occasion. When the exterminator came Jim, was happy to get off the roof for a while. So he ended up cooking up some tacos for lunch, and stirring up a pitcher of lemonade. Sitting together and eating the lunch Jim had made, the three simply enjoy the breeze wafting by. For the first time in weeks, Jim felt relaxed and happy.

At least until his stomach rebelled and he was forced to run inside, barely making it to the bathroom before he lost his lunch. By the time he had finished, his chest and stomach ached from the muscles spasming and everything taste of bile. It didn’t seem like he could wash his mouth out fast enough.

“You doing alright, son,” Mr. Freedman ask from where he stood in the doorway.

“Yeah.” Jim rinsed his mouth one last time, spitting it back into the sink before turning around to look at the older man, one hand rubbing at his lips to wipe away anything left behind. “The doctor said I was fine.”

“Which doctor?”

“Dr. Buechi.”

“Buechi,” Mr. Freedman scoffed. “That man is hardly a doctor. He’s a quack and his license should have been revoked a decade ago.”

“Not gonna argue that,” Jim said, slumping down on the covered lip of the toilet.

“How long have you been sick?”

“Not long.”

“Jim,” Mr. Freedman gazed at him.

“Since just before the graduation ceremony.” Jim looked down at his shoes, not comfortable looking up at his best friends father. He wasn’t sure he was pregnant, but he was embarrassed by the possibility all the same. “But it’s just a flu! Really!”

Mr. Freedman looked him over, his gazed telling Jim just how much the man didn’t believe him. But, with a grand sigh, he relented. “If you are still sick next week I am taking you in to a _real_ doctor myself. Understood?”

“Yes sir.”

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

**Day 28; 4:25 pm, Shi'kar, Vulcan**

 

T'Pring was in a quandary. As the future wife to the heir of the house of Surak, she held a position of importance that could only grown with time. It was a position of significance among her people. It was a great boon for her clan that she had been chosen by Elder T'Pau to be the wife of S'chn T'gai Spock. Now however, she saw it more as a noose around her neck. Spock was aesthetically pleasing, he had the highest IQ in their age group, and the highest test scores in the schools history.

But.... He was half human. Something their fellows saw as a sin against their cultural heritage, and genetic superiority. So long as she was to be his wife his sin would cast a heavy shadow over her own achievements. She did not like to admit that for 3.25 years after their betrothal she had been angry, her emotions getting the better of her for the first time in her life. Since then she had come to understand that her year mates actions were not worthy of IDIC. She had begun to find herself of the opinion that life as Spock's wife would not be the handicap she had assumed as a child. His humanity was no longer a problem for her. Her skills and intelligence was nearly as great as his own, and she was more than capable of defending her honor, and proving her worth to any doubters.

So she had done her best to cultivate a peaceful relationship with her _Sa-kugalsu_. Things were going more smoothly between them, and for a wistful moment she had even contemplated that she might come to feel affection for him. But approximately 26 days ago something had changed everything. She had felt it. A change in their betrothal bond. Something she had not recognized until she consulates some of the oldest documents the VSA had on record in their library.

A _T'hy'la_ bond had formed between Spock and someone else.

From this moment on she could only be the second best in his affections. It hurt more than she expected. Perhaps, after all this time, she truly did feel affection for Spock. It could not hurt this much to lose her place as his primary wife for she had no real desire for political power. Her family machinations for great social power where of little concern to her. All she wanted from life was freedom to learn, study, experiment, and....love. So the answer, though it was distinctly un-Vulcan, could be nothing more than jealousy that the man who was hers had fallen for another.

For a week she quietly contemplated her options. Should she say nothing and marry him as was expected, spending the rest of her life married to a man who had such a profound bond with another? Could she survive living her life cast in its shadow? Or did she address the matter with Spock and request he break the bond with his _T'hy'la_? No, she did not think she could withstand the guilt of destroying something so innocently beautiful and rare as what she had briefly seen beyond his shields. Her only other option was _P’pil’lay._ To sever the bond between Spock and herself before his _Pon Farr._ Itseemed the wisest option. She did not want to be someone's second choice. She deserved to be someone's first choice. Her family would scorn her choice, calling it an emotional weakness, but from her time with Spock she had learned that emotions hardly made one weak. If anything she thought Spock might be the strongest person she knew because he faced his emotions.

Having carefully thought the matter and all its ramifications over, T'Pring left the school at the end of the learning period and headed to the house of Elder T'Pau, matriarch of the House of Surak. She would approach the matriarch about the bond she felt form between Spock and another, and ask her opinion on how the matter could be resolved with the least amount of offense to all involved parties. Her hope, though Vulcans did not _hope_ , was that the elder would be of the same mind as herself. That the betrothal bond should be broken, and T'Pring allowed to go her own way or be bonded to another of the clan. This would be the best option to appease her parents and clan. They would still find insult with her not being bonded to the heir, but none could deny Spock's right, or her's, to have the bond broken now that he had located his _T'hy'la_.

With a renewed conviction that what she planed was the right course, she waved her hand in front of the sensor by the door. From beyond the doorway she could hear the light chime of the bells, followed by the soft footfalls of an adult approaching the door. When it was opened she was unsurprised to be greeted by a tall, stately male Vulcan dressed in impeccably tailored robes.

"I would speak with elder T'Pau if it would cause no inconvenience."

The male inclined his head and stepped back, allowing her to enter. "You may leave your shoes here."

"Very well," she replied, calmly slipping each shoe off and setting it in the wooden cupboard beside the door. Accepting the pair of house slippers from the cupboard below, she turned and followed the man further into the home. She did her best to face forward as she followed behind, not wanting offend by displaying any curiosity before the older man. The walk took but moments as he led she down a short hall to a wooden door, which slid back along the wall with but the lightest touch. He paused by the open doorway and waved her inside.

"I shall announce your presence."

"My thanks," she replied as he again inclined his head towards before before sliding the door closed, leaving her in the small sitting room.

Alone now, she allowed herself the luxury of looking about the room, taking in the smooth plaster wall, rich wood flooring, and the numerous antiques that decorated the shelves on one wall. Opposite the door she had entered through was another sliding door, this one of opaque glass. Stepping closer she placed her hand against it, watching it change to its transparent form, giving her a view of the carefully tended _lap-bah-ker_. It was well maintained, and she could not be but impressed at the sight of so many native plants bearing fruit planted alongside fruit trees from Earth.if she was not mistaken she though she might have even seen what appeared to be an several aloe planets, and blue agave planets, hidden off to the sides behind the trees.

"Hard work and dedication is rarely unrewarded," came a strong, cultured voice from behind her.

Turning away from the view of the orchard, T'Pring inclined her head in agreement, before moving to sit in one of the plush high-back chairs seated around the round table at the center of the room where T'Pau was already sitting, pouring tea into two porcelain teacups. "Your hard work on the _lap-bah-ker_ does you credit. I have never seen one flourish so."

T'Pring took the tea cup from the elders hands, careful to ensure their fingers did not touch even briefly. The aroma wafting up from the cup was not one she was familiar with. It was light and fragrant, smelling of a fruit she could not name. It was not at all unpleasant.

"My daughter-in-law sent that to me from Earth. They were introduced to it from a young man that welcomed them briefly into his home."

"It is more than adequate in flavor," T'Pring replied after a careful sip. She thought briefly of the bond shed sensed. Was the human who chose this tea the one who had created the bond with Spock? "I cannot name this flavor."

"It is a blend which includes an Earth fruit called the huckleberry. I have been told that there are several varieties of the berry and that the one in this tea is the Red Huckleberry native to the Pacific Northwest of the North American continent."

Several more minutes passed between them as they slowly drank their cup of tea. Vulcans were little for unnecessary conversation, and as such T'Pring did not feel compelled to fill the silence.

While she did not know elder T'Pau well, she could say that the silence between them was hardly a hardship. There was less strain between them than she felt admits her own family, who had perchance, sensed that she was unsure of her future bonding. Had they known she had been contemplating her options for the future both as Spock's wife and as the woman who would chose not to marry him? If they did it would not deter her.

Setting down her teacup, T'Pring straightened her spine and faced the matriarch of her _sa-kugalsu_ Spock's clan. "I would address the matter of my bonding with S'chn T'gai Spock."

One of T'Pau's brown arched elegantly up her forehead, before carefully lowering back into place. "Speak your mind."

"It has come to my attention that a spontaneous bond has formed between Spock and another while he has been on Earth."

"Indeed?"

Feeling the tingle of fear at her spine lesson, T'Pring continued. "After careful research into the matter it is my conclusion that he has formed a _T'hy'la_ bond. Though this cannot be confirmed without a meld by one more experienced than I."

T'Pau said nothing in response, just waited quietly, her elbows resting on top of her knees, fingertips touching each other, forming a steeple.

Taking a steadying breath, T'Pring continued. "If it should be a _T'hy'la_ bond I would request that we undergo _P’pil’lay_. It would not serve either Spock or myself to share a full bond when his true match has already been met."

"And if it is not a _T'hy'la_ bond," asked T'Pau.

"Then I will consent to the existing arrangement as long as Spock is in agreement."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> 1.) Sa-kugalsu – fiancé; a man to whom a woman is engaged to be married.  
> 2.) T'hy’la: friend-lover-lifelong companion, blood brother/sister; soulmate; soul-brother/sister  
> 3.) P’pil’lay – divorce; the severing of a mind-link between bonded couples


	8. Chapter 8

**June 2248 - Day 31; 1:45 am, Kirk Family Farm**  
  
Jim found that for whatever reason it was turning out to be surprisingly difficult to take the three steps to the sink to look at the small device that contained his future. Would he have to force himself to think in terms of being "female" or could he relax and start thinking in terms of being "male" again? It was strangely terrifying. He still had breasts and a vagina but he also had a penis, although there was still no outward sign of his testicles. God, that was just awkward to think. He was sick of being a girl and getting all those patronizing looks from the rest of the population of Riverside. Just because he hadn't changed back when everyone else did didn't mean anything! Jim had thought he could stand being female if it meant keeping Spock, but with him so far away he realized he couldn’t…didn’t want to stay a girl forever.  
  
Taking a deep breath and drawing up all the courage he could spare Jim stood up and went to stand in front of the sink, staring down at the innocent looking white test stick. This was it. Time to see if he had kept a bit of Spock with him or if his biology was just fucking with him.  
  
 _ **'DATA INCONCLUSIVE.'**_  
  
Jim shook the stick violently before looking at the screen. _**'DATA INCONCLUSIVE,'**_ flashed back at him.  
  
Growling, Jim hurled the stick at the trash bin. This was ridiculous on far too many levels to be comfortable. He didn't want to be a 'she!' Not forever. At first he had thought he would be okay with it as long as he had Spock, but after returning to school...after returning Jim knew he couldn't be a girl. He had to be a boy. Even if it meant he had to be a pregnant boy. A boy that his K'diwa might not want. For a while it had been easy to be a girl. Spock had only seen him as a girl and had wanted her, had loved her. But now Spock was gone and the real world was pushing in and he couldn't pretend anymore.  
  
Jim slumped to the ground, knees drawn up and pushed his hands through his hair. He wanted to know now. He should already know but Dr. Buechi had dismissed him so completely last time, and the nurse had never called back with his lab tests. Probably because of Dr. Buechi. So he had asked for a new appointment but Dr. O'Neill had had to reschedule their appointment again. Jim was sure the Doctor could have done some kind of test that could do better than _**'DATA INCONCLUSIVE.'**_  
  
Frustrated and more than a little pissed off, Jim pulled himself up from the floor and went back into his bedroom. The pregnancy test left forgotten on the bathroom floor.  
  
  
* ~ * ~ * ~ *  
  
   
 **3:12 pm, Kirk Family Farm**  
  
Jim had slept fitfully after his morning pregnancy test. If he was truthful, he had been having a hard time sleeping for over a week now. He was constantly exhausted and it was getting harder to get up and do all the chores. He knew he could ask Scott for help but he was hesitant to do so. He didn't want to appear any weaker than he already did.  
  
Forcing himself out of bed, Jim dressed and headed outside. Inside the barn Betsy gave him a disgruntled look. Her udder was overfilled and her feed barrel empty, not to mention the pungent scent from the cow patties in the straw. Jim wrinkled his nose but quickly led her to a clean stall and went to work milking her. Afterwards he set her loose in the pasture and headed back into the barn to clean out her stall.  
  
It took far too long to clean it out with his body aching and begging to sleep, but he couldn't just leave it like that. He could have caused Betsy serious harm by missing her morning milking. Jim pushed his hands through his hair, tugging on the short strands. He would have to call Mr. Freedman to come out and to look her over. He couldn't afford to risk injury to Betsy due to his carelessness.  
  
Jim looked at the now empty and clean stall. Shaking his head he moved out of the small space and headed towards the fresh hay bails. He would need to put a fresh layer down in the stall before he could put Betsy back in here for the night.  
  
His back and arms were sore and Jim really didn't want to try and move the bails on his own, but he didn't have much choice. His body crying out in protest, Jim pulled at the heavy bails, slowly inching one off the pile. As the straw hit the floor Jim found his sight going gray around the edges. His legs suddenly felt like Jello and the floor began to tilt at an alarming angle.   
  
Before he met the floor the gray turned to black.  
  
He didn’t know for how long he was unconscious, only that it must have been a while as the temperature in the barn seemed to have dropped by about three, maybe five degrees. Moaning at the dull pain throbbing in his body, Jim rolled over and pushed himself up and off the floor. Whatever was happening to him, whether it was just his body reverting back to male, or whether it was a possible pregnancy, it was getting dangerous. He knew he should at the very least consider asking Scott to come stay for a while to help with the farm, but he was so used to being independent. Asking for help with the roof had been hard enough, and even though he had planned to ask Scott if he would be willing to help out at the farm, he hadn't been able to bring himself to do so. He had been basically running this farm since his Mother had left, and he had never needed help before to take care of this place. He really didn’t want to have to get help now. He didn’t want to be seen as any weaker than he already was. People still talked about him, about his past. He didn’t want to add to their list of all time favorite gossip.  
  
Jim pushed the hay bail into the stall and quickly went about setting it up for tonight. His mind continued to wander, thinking up different possibilities, different paths to take. Should he buy another pregnancy test or wait until his appointment with Dr. O’Neill? Should he write to Spock or wait for Spock to write him? In the end he decided he really wanted to hear from Spock. So he made his way to the house, already pre-planning what he should write. If he didn’t think it over he would probably spend all night writing and rewriting it.  
  
Jim grabbed his PADD and went to sit in the wing-back chair in the library. He had been thinking about writing to Spock for a couple days now. He didn’t really know what to say to him other than he missed Spock and wanted to see him again. But that just made him feel completely lame. He knew Spock would want to know about what was happening, how things at school were going but Jim wasn’t sure that would be very interesting for his Vulcan. True Spock had been very interested in Jim for the few days they were here, but would he really want to hear about Jim’s fight with Shorrden? Or how long and dull the graduation ceremony was and that the after party had been in Kathy Howard’s barn. He probably wouldn’t like hearing that Jim was tossing his cookies all the time or that he hadn’t been able to keep up all the farm chores and try to find a job, that Jim was just exhausted all the time. But there really wasn’t mush else to tell Spock. So in the end he did spend several hours before putting Betsy back in the barn, writing and rewriting his letter to Spock.  
  
The letter ended up being nearly longer than he thought, and full of all the stuff Jim had told himself not to say. In some ways he thought it more resembled a diary entry than a love letter. He was sure though that Spock would like to hear that Jim was being faithful and that he wanted desperately to see Spock again. Jim had even stuffed a couple pictures of him (still looking rather female) standing next to Scott and Mr. Freedman after the graduation ceremony. Jim knew he should tell Spock the truth, that Jim was really a boy and that he had accidentally turned into a girl due to some freak accident during a Chemistry class. But he wasn’t ready to. Not just yet. Soon though, soon he would tell Spock. Perhaps in the next letter, after Spock had written back.  
  
Jim looked down at the paper envelope, thick and full of his emotions and deceptions. He could only hope that Spock would write back quickly. Jim stroked his fingers over the envelope one more time and turned away to get ready for bed.  
  
  
* ~ * ~ * ~ *  
  
 _ **Dear Spock,**_  
  
 _ **I must have written this letter a dozen times since you've left to go back to Vulcan. I've only written a couple letters before, all of which were for my Grandfather Tiberius. This was his farm you know. Before my parents got married. Well, it was his even after they married. There is a small cottage, a place meant for farmhands to live, back behind the meadow where I showed you the stars. When my parents got married my grandfather moved into the cottage. Of course after my father died and my mother went back to Starfleet grandfather moved back into the main house. I think he did that because he didn't trust my Mom's new husband, Frank, to take care of us. Things were pretty good with him around, but after he died...well, you saw how things were.**_  
  
 _ **Uh, I guess I got a bit sidetracked, but I don't suppose you mind too much. Still, I'll try to skip the sad family stories.**_  
  
 _ **There isn't much going on here right now. I graduated High School. (I put in a picture from the ceremony for you. That's me next to Mr. freedman and his son, Scott.) The ceremony was really boring. They made us all dress up in those stupid dress things and march into the gym in rows of two before pretty much the whole town. Then we got stuck sitting in these horrible plastic chairs from the twentieth century, for like two hours as the Principal and then the valedictorian gave their lectures on the future. I was so bored I thought my brain was going to liquefy and pour out my ears. I'm sure you'd tell me that I should have paid more attention, but honestly, I just couldn't. I think I caught the flu after I went back to school after you left, because I've been hardly able to keep food down. I went to see the doctor but, well, the man's an ass and completely dismissed everything I was telling him about my symptoms. So I am currently waiting to see a different doctor. I'll let you know what they say. Whatever it is it does not appear to be contagious. No one else who I have been around recently seems to have gotten sick, at least.**_  
  
 _ **The cold isn't bad really. I just feel tired more easily than usual and of course I've been throwing up a bit. But other than that I am fine. Really. Mr. Freedman has already offered to loan Scott to me if I want to rest and fight off the cold. I should take him up on it but Scott is busy trying to fill out all of his college applications, and that is more important. He hasn't really said anything but, I think he has also put something for Starfleet Academy. I know he wants to go into space, but I think he might be holding back because he doesn't want to leave his Dad alone. His Mom dies when I was five. I don't remember her much, but I do remember she was beautiful and super kind. She was always smiling when I saw her in town. She was my Kindergarten teacher, you know. The nicest teacher I ever had. She taught me the constellations, even left me that telescope in her will. Which, well, I never know what to say about that. I mean I was five and she was my teacher. Maybe she understood my Mom wasn't such a great Mom, and that was why she was always willing to spend time with me during recess and after school? You would have liked her, Spock. She could speak five languages. English, Cherokee, Bantu Swahilii, Caitian, and Vulcan. I always thought that was so cool. She even started to teach me Bantu Swahilii before she died. Mostly to keep me out of trouble since I would get bored in class. I could already read at the fifth grade level by that time, could spell, and even do basic math. I think if my Mom would have let them, the school would have jumped me one or two grades.**_  
  
 _ **Anyway, the cold isn't bad, and Scott comes over everyday to help with the animals while I try to get better. I can work through a simple cold, I've done it before. But his father and he, decided it would be better just to help me. I can't say I don't appreciate it. Without their help I would still be working on repairing the roof, and they have been helping me replace siding that has been eaten up by termites too. And yes, I did have a professional come out to ensure the termites were dead and gone prior to doing the repairs.**_  
  
 _ **The weather here is pretty nice as well. I think it would be a good temperature for your dad and you, and there is a good breeze so your mom would be comfortable too. The good weather has been helpful. The garden is producing a lot of vegetables this year and I will be able to sell some of the extras that I don't can, at the farmers market. I will have enough vegetables and fruit preserves to last me the winter if they keep growing like this, and I would still have left overs. This will be good because I need some extra cash to finish some of the repairs on the house. I need to get an electrician to come out and check the wiring, there has been some trouble with flickering lights and shorting out in the pantry and dinning room. I'm going to try and get a job to help out but I'm not sure how feasible that is if I want to keep running the farm and start college. I'm sure I will figure something out, so don't worry. Not that Vulcans do. ;)**_  
  
 _ **Well...Not much else is happening around here. And I doubt very much you want to hear all about small town life. It can't be anywhere near as interesting as seeing the shipyard, or actually flying in space. I'm a little jealous! I've only been off world once. It was, well, it was worse than I think I can accurately describe. But I'd still like to go into space again someday. Not all planets can be like that last one, otherwise nobody would ever leave their homeworld. Then you never would have been born, and I wouldn't have met you. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed your visit to the shipyard. Will you tell me about it? I can see the ship from the field beyond the fence line, but it must have been amazing to get to actually go through what they had built so far.**_  
  
 _ **That land belonged to my family, did you know? My grandfather gave it to Starfleet after the Kelvin was destroyed by the Romulans. He didn't really give it to them, he actually sold it to them. He put the money in a trust for my brother and I, though we can only access it once we reach twenty-one. I want to save it for when I am older and I can retire. I could get some horses again (Frank sold the last two for beer money). Maybe I will by a nice cabin on a lake somewhere, or a house on the beach. Hawaii would be nice, maybe Bali, or Guam? Bora Bora maybe? Of course, I would take your suggestions as well. Of course this is many decades from now, so I guess I'm running a bit ahead of myself thinking about reiterating when I've only just graduated High School.**_  
  
 _ **I'm still not sure what I should be writing I this letter. It is so much easier to talk with you when you are here. Then at least you can respond and I don't feel like I'm having a one-sided conversation with myself. Do you feel stupid writing letters? I feel like nothing exciting happens in Riverside, so I don't have anything exciting to share. Whereas you get to go to other planets with your folks, so you can see so many interesting things. How can I compare to new alien planets and cultures? Gosh, how I can this even be interesting for you? Sorry if I bored you.**_  
  
 _ **I miss you,**_  
 _ **Jim**_  
  
  
  
*~*~*~*  
  
  
 **Day 34; 6:05 am, Kirk Family Farm**  
  
   
  
Paul had been thinking about Jim for a few days now. He had gone over to check over Betsy after Jim admitted that he had slept through Betsy’s morning milking. It was certainly unusual. Jim had always been a very responsible lad when it came to that farm. So Jim missing something that he had been doing since he was five, struck Paul as a sign that something was wrong. Jim had looked pale, with heavy bags under his eyes. Hell, even his smile, which normally lit up the room like the fourth of July, was dull and almost lifeless. He had been very worried, especially after speaking with Jim and finding out he had been sick during the early graduation ceremony.  
  
Paul had been good friends with George and he had known Jim since the lad was knee high to a grasshopper. He knew that Jim had been hurt a lot during his lifetime and Paul didn’t want to see it happen again. There was no one there now to take care of Jim. No one to rest a hand on his temple and test for a fever. No one to make him soup and argue with him to get some rest. No one to tease him and ruffle his hair. No one to smile at him in the mornings and greet him when he comes home. George wouldn’t have wanted that for either of his children.  
  
Nodding to himself, Paul decided he would head over to the Kirk Farm and check on Jim. The lad shouldn’t be there all on his own and Paul would convince him of that. At the least Scott could stay there with Jim, but hopefully Jim would agree to just move in to their home until he was back to full health and the repairs to the house were completed. He really did not like finding out that the electrical was in need of repair, and that Jim wasn't willing to take a loan from him to fix the problems right away.  
  
Course of action decided, Paul went to grab his keys, whistling for his two dogs to follow and headed for his truck. He would head on over and see about giving Jim a helping hand before he went in to town and opened his Vet Clinic for the day. If possible he would try to convince Jim to let Scott and him help him more than they already were and maybe he could even convince Jim to come and work at the Clinic. It would certainly make it easier on Jim to have a steady income, but it would also be a good way to monitor the lads health. He didn't like the idea of Jim being sick and alone in that house. Too much could happen.  
  
Paul held the door to his truck open as Amin and Kalilia came running. The two dogs barked excitedly at the sight of the truck and tried to jump into the cab at the same time. Paul chuckled and held Kalilia back as Amin hopped inside. The big male circled the cab once and then sat down in the middle of the bench style seat. The moment he had claimed his spot Paul let go of Kalilia and let her jump inside taking the spot between Amin and the door. Paul shook his head, a warm smile stretching his lips, and circled around to the drivers side and hopped in. The engine purred to life as he turned the key in the ignition.  
  
The truck was old, built sometime in the 1970's, but was still in surprisingly good condition. The engine had been replaced years ago with a modern engine to keep up with the Federation laws regarding toxic emissions. He liked his classic Earth vehicles but he wasn't of the opinion that keeping them historically accurate was more important than the careful regeneration of the ozone. The Vulcan's had gone through a lot of trouble when they helped to found the Federation, to make the planet's environments stable and healthy.  
  
Paul spent a lot of time musing on the matter while he tried not to think about what could have made Jim so sick. It was only a distraction but he would prefer not to think about the matter until he saw Jim for himself again. If the boy was still as sick looking as last week, well...he wasn't going to give Jim or Doc O'Neill the chance to reschedule the appointment. He'd been sick long enough that Paul was starting to think Jim might in fact be pregnant. If he was that was only going to help more problems on the lads overburdened shoulders.  
  
The road to the Kirk Farm was still dry and a cloud of yellow dust rose up from his tires as he picked up speed. If Jim was up then he was bound to see the dust cloud long before he actually saw the truck. Still, Paul always worried about just dropping by without notice, it went against the grain on every bit of manners his Mother had beat into his head as a child.  
  
"A bit late to worry about that now, huh, loves?" Paul let his right hand leave the wheel to scratch Amin's head. "Bad manners, but I'm sure Jim will at least be happy to see you two."  
  
By the passenger-side door Kalilia's tail was wagging furiously as she caught sight of the old farmhouse. Amin was hardly any better.  
  
Paul stopped the truck and placed it in park before stepping out, the two dogs surging out behind him. Looking about the front yard, Paul frowned.  "Everything is quiet out front so Jim must still be in the back."  
  
Looking away from the front of the house Paul made his way around the side and to the back where the barn and small garden were. He could see a hint of light peeking out from beneath the barn door and there in the pasture alongside the barn was Betsy the cow, quietly grazing on the yellow grass. A good sign that Jim had not overslept and missed milking her. Thinking Jim must still be in the barn working on something else, Paul calmly made his way over to the barn door. As he stepped inside something tickled at his brain. Something was off kilter here.  
  
Looking around Paul realized Jim wasn't here even though the light was on. Jim wasn’t in the empty stalls and he couldn’t hear anything moving in the hayloft. Moving further into the barn, Paul stopped as a cold shiver went down his spine. Looking around he realized the blast of cold air had come from the open dairy freezer.  
  
Suddenly it was hard to breathe. Every terrifying thought of what was making Jim so sick hit him fast and hard. Without hesitation he ran to the freezer, practically throwing himself into the small cold room. His breath came out a frozen gush of frosty air but it wasn't the low temperature of the room that frozen his blood. It was the sight of his dead friend's son, of Jim, laying unconscious on the floor of the freezer his lips already turning blue.  
  
   
* ~ * ~ * ~ *  
  
  
 **Day 35; 10:52 am, Riverside General**  
  
The light that reached his eyes as they slowly open was nearly blinding. Wincing, Jim squeezed them shut and tried to ignore the stabbing pain in his temples and behind his eyes. When that didn't make the pain any less he tried to focus on the rest if his body. Every muscle felt as if it was weighed down by a Starship nacelle. For a moment he thought maybe someone had tied him down and drugged him, because damn but he was tired. It was like he hadn't slept for a week.  
  
"Hey there kiddo, you can open your eyes. The lights are lower set now."  
  
Warily cracking open one eye, Jim looked toward the sound of the familiar voice.  
  
"Not so bad now, is it?" Paul Freedman gave Jim a tired smile.  
  
Jim blinked. The older man looked about as exhausted as Jim felt. There was something weak, almost desperate in his eyes as they watched Jim. Almost as if he had been worried Jim was going to die. Jim felt his cheeks heating with blood as they watched each other. No one had ever really worried about him so much that it looked like they had lost sleep. He could imagine this was what it must feel like to have a parent worried about you, something couldn't ever really remember having.   
  
_'What a novel experience,'_ Jim mused.  
  
Jim licked his lips and finally let his gaze shift away from Mr. Freedman, to look about the room. _'Bland colorless walls, terribly scratchy linens, bleach smell...yeah, another hospital. Fuck.'_ Jim looked back to Mr. Freedman, his hands clenching the bed sheets. "What happened?"  
  
"We were hoping you could tell us, Jim. I found you passed out and nearly hypothermic in the cold storage room in your barn."  
  
Jim's eyebrows drew together as he tried to remember. "I was putting the milk away. I had gotten it put in the pasteurizer. Then I had set the bucket down to get...something. I don't...I...the ground came up," his voice trailed off as Jim tried to catch the fleeting memories. Vaguely he thought he might remember someone picking him up like a child, but that couldn't be right.  
  
"It's okay, Jim. Don't push yourself." Paul put his large hand on Jim's shoulder, squeezing lightly. "Doc O'Neill has done some preliminary tests to see what is going on, since they got you back to a healthy temperature. She's still waiting on the last of the results though. But it sounds to me like you fainted. Have you been eating alright? I have some good stew at home you can have."  
  
"I'm eating fine," Jim looked away, the blush in his cheeks spreading up to his ears.  
  
"He needs a bit more vitamins in his diet, Paul," stated Dr. O'Neill as she stepped in the room. "Mr. Kirk is anemic, strangely enough he is copper anemic rather than iron anemic." The doctor frowned at her PADD, barely looking up at Jim in her frustration. “Mr. Kirk did you engage in penetrative sex during the period of time in which you were fully female?”  
  
Jim’s eyes went wide and he quickly looked away. He couldn’t believe that she was asking him that while Mr. Freedman was in the room. How could she expect him to just answer that? God, could this day be any more embarrassing?  
  
“Jim,” Dr. O’Neill’s voice came out a bit irritated and Jim suddenly realized she must have tried to get his attention a couple of times now. “While I realize this must be very boring for you,” her gaze narrowed and Jim found himself grimacing. She was so good at making him feel guilty for nothing. “You should answer me.”  
  
“Yes…”  
  
“Yes, what, Jim?”  
  
“Yes I had penetrative sex with a guy.”  
  
“Scott,” asked Mr. Freedman, not sounding overly concerned or upset.  
  
Jim’s head jerked towards Mr. Freedman. “Oh hell no! I promise it wasn’t Scott.”  
  
Mr. Freedman couldn’t help but smirk at the panicked look on Jim’s face. “Would it be bad if it was?”  
  
“NO! Scott is great really, I just…uh…we aren’t-“  
  
“Relax, Jim. I’m just teasing you.”  
  
Jim slumped back against the pillow in relief. He honestly didn't think Mr. Freedman would have been mad at him if it had been Scott, but, well...Jim wasn't really looking to have people butting into his life and trying to take it over because he needed "help." If he was pregnant he would take care of it.  
  
“That’s all well and good you two, but I will need to know who you slept with, Jim,” stated Dr. O’Neill. “I’ll need to get his medical files in case there are any anomalies we should be aware of.”  
  
“I…uh,” Jim blushed and looked down. “It was the Vulcan boy, Spock, who stayed at my house.”  
  
“A Vulcan? Really,” Dr. O’Neill looked at Jim shocked. “Well, that would explain the copper deficiency.” Dr. O’Neill shook her head. “I would love to help with this but I don’t have the right kind of training for such a high risk pregnancy, especially not for a hybrid baby. I’m going to get a few more scans and then I am going to contact a college at Starfleet Medical. He has more experience with hybrid physiology and male pregnancy than anyone in the state.”  
  
“Starfleet? Do you have to contact them,” Jim asked. His hands tugged nervously at his blankets.  
  
Dr. O’Neill gave Jim a long penetrating look before letting a small smile appear. “He isn’t a part of Starfleet but he does work with them on occasion and does lectures for their advanced medical classes. He is the most qualified Doctor I can think of to help with this and I’m sure this will be far more interesting for him than anything Starfleet will be throwing at him right now.”   
  
Dr. O’Neil picked up the tricorder on the table by the door and set about scanning his abdomen and groin. “Dr. Phlox will likely want to do some more tests of his own once he gets here but until then you can rest.”   
  
Nodding at the tricorder she quickly made some more notes on her PADD. “I want you to stay overnight for observation. We’ll see how you are in the morning and if it looks good you can go home with Mr. Freedman. Since this is a high-risk pregnancy, Jim, I need you to stay with someone. We can’t risk you collapsing again like you did today.”  
  
Jim nodded, feeling suddenly serious. The pregnancy shouldn’t surprise him. He had thought for a while now that he must be pregnant, that that was why he hadn’t fully changed back to being male. Still he could feel the vice-like grip momentarily squeeze his heart until he had to fight to take in a breath. “Yeah, maybe that is for the best, I guess.”  
  
“Good.” Dr. O’Neill turned and nodded for Paul to join her in the hallway. “I’ll need you to fill out some papers for me, Paul and then we can let Mr. Kirk rest up until later.”  
  
“Sure,” Paul patted Jim’s knee before standing and following the doctor out of the room.  
  
Jim watched them through the window for a few minutes, wondering what they were talking about that they didn’t want him to hear before falling back into sleep.  
  
  
* ~ * ~ * ~ *  
  
  
 **Day 37; 11:15 am, Kirk Family Farm**  
  
   
  
In the end Dr. O’Neil had managed to keep Jim in the hospital for an extra day and a half before she would let him be signed out. It was irritating being confined to the small room and the uncomfortable bed. The only people who came to see him were Mr. Freedman and Scott, well besides all the Nurses and the doctor herself, but they hardly counted as they were only there for their jobs and not Jim. It was depressing really. The hospital must have tried to call his Mom or Sam but of course neither had answered. He doubted they would have located Sam, wherever he had run away to years ago it was apparently out of reach, and his Mother never responded. It didn’t matter what he did, how badly hurt he was, she never answered any of the messages Jim sent through the right Starfleet channels. It was almost like she didn't work for Starfleet, almost like she didn't exist.  
  
Jim closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. These were old wounds and he couldn’t let them keep hurting him. He was an adult now, admittedly he was still a minor by the letter of the law but he had his own home he was taking care of, a promise of an income once he was ready, a fiancé waiting for him to be of age, and a child on the way. He was an adult in all the ways that really mattered to him.  
  
“Are you hungry at all, Jim? You didn’t eat breakfast and you need to keep your health up.”  
  
Jim looked away from the fireplace to where Scott was standing next him, one dark mocha colored hand resting against the back of Jim’s chair. Even now looking up at Scott’s striking visage he was reminded of Spock. Where Scott’s black hair was long and held back in a braid going down his back, Spock’s was neatly trimmed and short, barely more than stubble at the base of his skull. Scott’s skin was warm and dark and Spock a pale white, tinted lightly with an olive tone from his green blood. Both seemed to have the same rich coffee colored eyes, but the eyebrows…oh those eyebrows of Spock’s, so mobile and graceful as they arched up his forehead. They were both so very different and yet both of them had the same warm aura of gentle kindness radiating from them.  
  
“Jim?”  
  
“No, sorry…yeah I suppose I should eat something.”  
  
Scott smiled, flashing white teeth. “Alright then, anything specific?”  
  
Jim scrunched up his nose as he thought. Some of his favorite foods were making him ill just smelling them, which sucked. He wanted a chocolate banana milk shake so bad, but the scent of the chocolate was making him nauseous. “Do we have any bananas?”  
  
“Yeah, a few. Do you want me to get some more next time we head into town?”  
  
“Yeah, I seemed to have an easier time with fruits and vegetables…actually some spinach with the banana would be good, maybe some Greek yogurt as well.”  
  
Scott chuckled and ruffled Jim’s hair. “I’ll see what I can do. We don’t have any yogurt but there is still some cottage cheese?”  
  
Jim glanced at his belly and looked back up to Scott. “Okay add a bit of that in as well.”  
  
“Can do.” Scott shook his head and chuckled as he head out of the library through the formal sitting room and into the kitchen.  
  
Jim had to chuckled quietly to himself. He had the stereotypical strange food cravings, and somehow he was sure they would likely get weirder as the pregnancy progressed. But he supposed that weird cravings were the least of his worries.  
  
It didn’t take long for Scott to fill up one of the stoneware soup bowls with chopped up banana bits, fresh spinach leaves, and a dollop cottage cheese to the top. While the dish looked absolutely disgusting it also looked freakishly appetizing to his pregnant stomach.   
  
Scott looked away, his face a little green from watching Jim eat. “Oh thank God,” Scott practically ran out into the hall as they heard the sound of his Dad’s truck pull into the drive.  
  
Jim barely glanced up from his bowl as Scott headed outside to meet his Dad and Dr. Phlox. It wasn’t because he was scared of a doctor. He was James Tiberius Kirk, no doctor was going to make him hide in his library. No, he was just too comfortable to move. That was all.  
  
The sound of footsteps in the hall and a new soft voice filtered into Jim. He almost got up to go see the famous Dr. Phlox but figured the doctor was here to see him and he was the pregnant one so the good doctor would just have to suffer with Jim’s lack of manners.  
  
He could hear Scott talking as he took the doctors coat, putting it away in the hall closet. Mr. Freedman chuckling softly and interjecting with comments as he lead the other two into the library where Jim was (not so patiently) waiting. He had never meet a Denobulan before so that was kind of cool, but he could do without the guy being a doctor, or affiliated with Starfleet. Although that might be good. Maybe he knew Winona and would let slip her youngest was pregnant. Maybe then she would care – no, he had to be realistic. She would never care. She had made sure he understood that from a young age. If she cared she would have been there when he came back from Tarsus IV. Instead she had hidden away under a blanket response of “I’m on long term assignment.” Bull shit! Starfleet would have let her come to get him if she had asked. They had done so for Kevin and Mari-Anne’s parents. His Mother just didn’t love him. Not even enough to at least ask how he was doing after being witness to…to all of that.  
  
“You must be, Jim,” The Denobulan stated with a warm smile.   
  
Jim glanced up from his bowl to gaze at the alien who was calmly watching him. Dr. Phlox, was an elderly man with a rather large, but warm smile. The ridges along his temples were prominent but also pretty cool. Overall he had a rather pleasant face that reminded Jim of old man Sexton, who played Santa every year for the town.  
  
“Yeah, that’d be me.”  
  
Dr. Phlox came to sit on the couch near Jim, his hands carefully resting in his lap. “When you are ready we will go ahead and head to another room to begin the exam.”  
  
“Okay.” Jim glanced down at the mostly empty bowl in his lap. “We can use the guest room just across the hall. Now, I guess.”  
  
“Very well.” Dr. Phlox gave Jim a wide smile that seemed to split his face. “This is quit exciting. You will be the second human male pregnancy I have had the good fortune to be witness to.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Indeed. The first was aboard the Enterprise under Captain Archer’s command. Commander Tucker was accidentally impregnated by a Xyrillian female while assisting them in repairs to their vessel.”  
  
“Um, Okay.” Jim gave Dr. Phlox a long look, not quit sure what to make of the man’s apparent joy at having another pregnant human male for a patient.  
  
“Dr. O’Neill has advised me that the other Father is a Vulcan.”  
  
“Yeah," Jim warily replied.  
  
Dr. Phlox nodded. “We will need to insure you have an extra source of copper in your diet then to counteract the copper the baby will be siphoning from your body.”  
  
The two crossed the hall into the guest room where Dr. Phlox requested Jim to get on the bed and relax while he set up his equipment. There was surprising little of it but what there was, was fairly standard, or at least Jim assumed it was. There was the standard scanners, a tricorder, a case full of hyposprays, an expressive looking PADD and an ultrasound wand. The doctor had them all set out carefully in a row on a small table he had Scott bring in. After getting everything just the way he wanted he turned to Jim with yet another wide grin stretching his place.  
  
“I will ask you to please remove your shirt. First I am going to just press my hands against your abdomen and I will ask you to tell me if it hurts at any time.”  
  
“Can do, Doc.”  
  
The doctor’s hands were warm against Jim’s stomach and the pressure light. It didn’t hurt but it was certainly uncomfortable enough to make Jim grunt at least once.  
  
“How badly does it hurt here, Jim?”  
  
“Not really pain,” he said as he rubbed at the spot. “Just an uncomfortable pressure.”  
  
“Hmm.” Dr. Phlox picked up the tricorder and carefully scanned Jim’s abdomen. “Well, it’s nothing serious. Just appears you are mildly constipated, easily fixable.”  
  
Before he knew it Jim found himself rubbing at the sore spot on his neck where Dr. Phlox had stabbed him with a hypospray. “What the hell!”  
  
“That will fix the constipation.”  
  
“Still,” Jim threw the doctor a dirty look, “You should warn a guy first.”  
  
Dr. Phlox seemed to find Jim’s statement amusing. Several minutes passed much the same way, the doctor examining Jim with one of his tools and then jabbing him with a hypospray making Jim mutter and complain. All the while the doctor continued to smile and radiate a jovial mood. Before Jim knew it an hour had passed and he was actually starting to find the doctor amusing in an unexpected way.  
  
“You are in excellent health overall and the fetus appears the same. I will need to schedule you for regular appointments, which we can do here or at my office in San Francisco?”  
  
“I would prefer to stay here if possible.”  
  
“Of course. I feel I should ask your permission to allow Dr. O’Neill to continue with us during these visits as she would be your primary doctor should you remain living in Riverside, and she will need some greater experience with hybrids before I am comfortable leaving you entirely in her care.”  
  
Jim took his time thinking about it. He had known Dr. O’Neill since he was little. She had taken care of him for just about everything and had memorized every strange allergy he had. She had seen him at his very worst and didn’t balk. “Yeah. Yeah, go ahead, that would be good.”  
  
“I will advise her then.” Dr. Phlox smiled. “The next ten months shall be most exciting I believe.”  
  
Jim’s eyes widened. “Ten months!”  
  
   
  
* ~ * ~ * ~ *  
  
   
  
 **Day 37; 0800 VST, Planet Vulcan, VSA**  
  
   
  
It had been thirty-two days, nineteen hours and thirteen minutes since he had left Earth, left Jim. Thirty-four days, thirteen hours and ten minutes since he had last touched his _K’diwa_. He wanted to see Jim again, to look into those blue eyes, to run his hands through the short golden locks, to feel…whole. It was not Vulcan to feel this way. A Vulcan did not feel. He has told himself this so many times. He had been “bullied” as the human’s said, since he was small. He had tried to learn to be better than his year mates. He had to be. If he was not more controlled than them, smarter than them, then he was just as weak and emotional as they always claimed. Jim made him weak, made him emotional. He wanted to lock that away as he did with all the other emotions, to be as strong and emotionally cold as his Father. But he couldn’t. The thought of locking away his love for Jim…it hurt.  
  
If he stayed here on Vulcan would he be able to be everything Jim needed? He would achieve his dream of attending the Vulcan Science Academy of proving himself just as intelligent as any other Vulcan. He would prove that he wasn’t deficient or handicapped simply because his Mother was Human, because his beloved was Human.  
  
“Spock, come here. Let me see you.” His Mother’s voice was warm, her arms stretched out to him. Human Whore they had all called her, even the adults. She was not that. Never that.  
  
“No.” His voice sounded petulant even to his own ears. He could not let her seem him so compromised.  
  
“Spock.” Her arms lowed and she gave him the same look she had when he was a small child. “There's no need to be anxious. You'll do fine.”  
  
He looked away from her briefly before turning from the view looking out of the city to look back at her again. Her face was warm and full of all the love she had tried to shower him with while young enough not to understand why it was wrong. Why Vulcan’s could not love as she loved. He had been denying her for years.  
  
Jim’s face, wide open and full of love as his Mother’s was flashed before his eyes. He could not turn away again. She was Human and she deserved at the very least his respect for staying on a planet where she was viewed as being less sentient than an animal. Where she was ostracized openly whenever his Father was not there. And yet here he was debating with himself if he could be the son she deserved while trying to be the Vulcan his Father wanted. He had no idea how to be both and to still be himself.  
  
“I am hardly anxious, mother. And fine has variable definitions. Fine is unacceptable.”  
  
Her fingers were warm against his collar. She patted his collar lightly, looking up into his eyes, her gaze inscrutably knowing. “Okay.”  
  
As her hands reached again to straighten the collar of his sweater he reached up and lightly took them in his other, holding them against his chest. “May I ask a personal query,” he asked in a hushed voice.  
  
“Anything.”  
  
“Should I choose to complete the Vulcan discipline of _Kolinahr_ , and purge all emotion, I trust, you will not feel it reflects judgment upon you.” The emotions that had been troubling him since first meeting Jim were growing into a raging sandstorm in his abdomen. He did not know if he could survive with them but at the same time he was unsure if he could live without them. He did not want to feel so out of control, he did not want to feel this guilt heavy as lead around his heart every time he looked at his mother.  
  
She shook her head and glanced down at their hands, clasped tightly together. When she looked up her eyes were glossy with unshed tears, and her lips briefly pressed into a thin line before relaxing into the warm half smile he was so used to. “Oh, Spock. As always, whatever you choose to be, you will have a proud mother.”  
  
They stood there together for several minutes, Spock’s hands holding onto hers in a delicate grip against his chest, before the large double door to the main council hall opened and a court page summoned him inside. Whether he was ready or not his future was waiting in that room in the hands of five other Vulcans. Vulcans who had never looked upon this woman as anything but a disadvantage. Vulcans who had tried to drag him away from her affections since he was capable of holding his own head up.  
  
He felt her squeeze his hands one last time before she dropped his hands and nodded for him to join the page inside. That sad expression flickered across her face again, so fast he could almost believe it wasn’t there. He turned without hesitation to follow the page. His future was there waiting and he could do nothing but face it as it came.  
  
The room was long, more corridor than room, the wood beams crossing each other in a spectacular inverted “v” above him, drawing him further into the room where the council waited on high above him. They sat there watching him silently, gazing down their noses at him more forcefully than ever before. As always they looked down upon him, this time literally as well as figuratively.  
  
“You have surpassed the expectations of your instructors. Your final record is flawless. With one exception, I see that you have applied to Starfleet as well,” the councilman seated in the center stated. Though his voice stayed flat and monotonous, Spock could easily pick up the briefest of psychic flickers of disgust that radiated from the councilman before he caught himself and drew his shields tight.  
  
“It was logical to cultivate multiple options.”   
  
“Logical but unnecessary.” The chief councilman continued to watch Spock with unblinking eyes. “You are hereby accepted to the Vulcan Science Academy. It is truly remarkable, Spock, that you have achieved so much, despite your disadvantage. All rise!”  
  
Spock felt a cold rage rising out of the sandstorm of emotions in him. He had stood here for years listening to them degrading his Mother as if their words did not go against the very core of IDIC. He had put up with it for so long because he had not know he could be treated any better, because his father could face the treatment day after day and not falter. He knew better now. Staying with Jim, visiting Earth, it had changed everything.   
  
“If you would clarify, Minister. To what disadvantage are you referring,” he asked, already knowing the answer. He wanted to hear them say it. To speak those horrible words he knew the man wanted to say, that they all bar his father and grandmother, wanted to say.  
  
“Your Human mother.”  
  
Even knowing the ministers answer before the man spoke it aloud didn’t stop Spock from raging on his Mother’s behalf. If he remained here he would be facing a future where he was constantly belittled, where his Mother would be mentioned in the most emotionally insulting of ways. He looked over to his Father who stood side by side to the very man who had spoken the words and saw no response. His Father was as calm as ever not even protesting the dishonor being shown his wife when she was not there to defend herself. The man who had travel on Earth with him seemed suddenly very distant, as if he had been nothing more than a figment of a dream. Closing his eyes slowly and taking a deep breath in through his nose, Spock drew his control tight around himself, a shield against the world.  
  
“Council, Ministers, I must decline.” His voice was clear and crisp as it echoed through the suddenly silent chamber. He had never been as certain of anything as he was certain of his choice in this moment.  
  
“No Vulcan has ever declined admission to this academy,” the older Vulcan stated, his voice fluctuating briefly with his incredulous displeasure and embarrassment.  
  
“Then, as I am half-human, your record remains untarnished.”  
  
His Father looked at him and still Spock found himself unable to read the man who had raised him. “Spock. You have made a commitment to honor the Vulcan way.”  
  
The minister spoke before Spock could even reply, his words holding the tiniest edge of irritation. “Why did you come before this council today? Was it to satisfy your emotional need to rebel?”  
  
Disappointment surging through him at his father’s words, Spock drew up his shoulders and projected the best Vulcan stoic disposition he could. He ignored the stern but vaguely amused look that flickered in his grandmother’s eyes from the other side of the council table.  
  
“The only emotion I wish to convey is gratitude.” Their words had made his choice far easier to accept than he had ever contemplated. “Thank you, Ministers, for your consideration. Live long and prosper,” the traditional words echoed in the hall like the most vulgar of curse words.


	9. Chapter 9

**June 2248 - Day 41; 0930 VST, Planet Vulcan, VSA**

 

Spock set the letter down, and raised his hands in a steeple before his face, fingertips gently touching. For a long moment he was silent, thinking. He did not like that Jim was unwell and he was not there to offer assistance. However, he was pleased to hear that Jim’s neighbors were coming to her aid. As her _sa-kugalsu_ he should be there to take care of her. But he could not do that if he did not have the proper training and education to support her in the manner she deserved. Still…

“Spock,” came a voice from behind him. 

He turned, looking up at the female Caitian who had approached him. She was perhaps the closest thing to a friend, in the human sense, that he had on Vulcan. They had worked on two separate projects together, though they did not socialize outside of the educational hours. She was friendly, and after seven years on Vulcan, she knew enough about Vulcan culture to respect physical privacy. She always stopped two feet away and waited for him to incline his head before she took two steps closer. She always made sure to make eye contact, and spoke in a clear tone, her voice never raised. He was intrigued by her, by how well she adapted to life on Vulcan, how she could ignore the insults from the other students, how she could act so logical, but show her emotions in her eyes and the twitches of her lips. He was of the opinion that she held some affection for him, though perhaps not as much as she had for T’Brinn. As a child Spock had held what the humans called a crush on T’Brinn. She was as beautiful physically as T’Pring, as easily intelligent as T’Pring, but far kinder. Unfortunately for Spock, his grandmother T’Pau had not considered her to be a good match. T’Brinn, it had turned out, was the granddaughter of his great aunt.

“L’Rurr,” Spock replied, his head inclining towards the empty seat beside him.

She smiled a small smile, barely a lifting of her lips and a twitch of her tail. Her hand came to rest gently on the back of the chair, drawing it out from under the table so that she could lower herself quietly into the seat. She resembled an Earth tiger, or at least the golden color variation of a tiger. Her skin was a soft golden yellow with darker orange-brown stripes, her hair was a darker strawberry blond that fell to below her shoulder blades, and her eyes were larger than a human’s, and a much brighter shade of green than he had ever seen before. She was lovely in a wholly exotic way.

“Scuttlebutt around campus is that you turned down an acceptance to the VSA.”

Spock arched an eyebrow at her, but otherwise made no comment. It seemed not to matter to her though. Her senses being stronger than even a Vulcans, strong enough that upon their races first meeting, Vulcans had assumed that Caitian’s were empathic, possibly even telepathic, she likely already had an idea of what he was thinking. Or at the very least an idea of what emotions he was currently controlling.

She rolled her eyes. “Not answering is also an answer.”

“Is it?” inquired Spock.

“In most species it is seen as confirmation of the inquiry. Even if the true answer isn’t a confirmation, but a negative.”

Spock’s brows furrow slightly. “I shall keep that in mind for future dealings with non-Vulcan races.”

“Then I assumed correctly? You did turn them down?” She waited, obviously expecting an answer, but all the more amused by him withholding it. “It is the best choice you could have made, Spock. As much as the VSA could nourish your education, they cannot truly give a full education. They are too set in their isolationist ways to realize that they are hampering their students by not encouraging them to seek out knowledge from other cultures. Humans and Caitians, for example, are too emotional by far for many Vulcan’s to tolerate. But that desire to shame our species for not being Vulcan does discredit to Surak and the IDIC philosophy, just as much as it does to all the people of those species. Has your education been stunted by your learning from my father?”

“No. Your father is a most intelligent man, and his theories on artificial intelligence are unparalleled.”

“I thank you for saying so.” She smiled again and leaned slightly closer to him, but still outside his personal space. “You are my father’s favorite pupil, and one of the smartest people I have ever known. Spock.” She paused, her ears twitching towards the door. “You are unhappy here. Your knowledge and achievements are scoffed at because the other are scared of you. You are half human and smarter than them. They have been raised to believe in IDIC when it proves them smart, more evolved, and just generally better than the other races. Your mother is one of the brightest women in the Federation, her achievements with the Universal Translator are a revolution, and yet here she is merely the human woman Sarek is unfortunately bonded to. Go to Starfleet, Spock. See what the universe has to offer you. Try to see life through new eyes. You will find it opens up a new universe of possibilities.”

Spock looked down at his hands, which had at some point grabbed onto Jim’s letter, crushing it between his fingers at the mention of his mother. He said nothing, just took a deep breath and relaxed his hold on the delicate paper, smoothing it out on the table before him.

“I’ll let you think it over,” L’Rurr stood, calmly smoothing down the front of her tunic. “For what it is worth, Spock…I think the Council does you and your family a great disservice. Any scientific organization would be lucky to have you.” She smiled again, a little sadly, and turned to walk away.

The door swished closed behind her, leaving Spock sitting in the student study hall alone. He sat there at his desk, Jim’s wrinkled letter warm under his palm, and stared into nothingness for nearly thirty minutes. Despite his doubts, he knew he could not back down from what he had said in the council chamber, and he would not. His mother and Jim proved to him that humans were more than unfortunately emotional beings.

Folding Jim’s letter in half and then slipping it into the envelope it had been delivered in, Spock finished packing up his things. He was setting the last PADD into the box he had picked up from the office when the door slid open again. This time Instructors Soval and M’Rarw entered. Spock nodded in their direction in acknowledgment of their arrival, but continued to close up his box.

“Spock.” 

“Instructors.”

M’Rarw stepped closer, his thin lips stretched wide, flashing elongated canines. “I am very proud of you, my boy.”

“Sir?” Spock inquired.

“The council is an august body, but they are not the most flexible of minds. Progress cannot be made if everyone conforms to the same standards. Walk the edges, Spock. Find your own path in life and never let someone else tell you what it should be. You are going to be a great scientist one day.”

“I thank you for your generous opinion, Instructor M’Rarw.”

The Caitian gave a hearty laugh, slapping Spock on the shoulder and shaking his head before stepping back. Soval, who had been Spock’s academic advisor for the last three years, stepped forward in his colleague’s place. In his hand was a red colored wooden box, its smooth lid inlaid with pale white wood carved in delicate Vulcan calligraphy. Without hesitation he stretched his hands out, holding the box out for Spock to take. With great care Spock took the box from him. Tracing the words with a single finger, Spock felt his heart stutter in his chest.

 

_**Live long and prosper, treasured student** _

_**May a part of Vulcan be forever with you** _

Lifting the lid Spock took in the blue velvet lining and its rare and precious treasure carefully set inside. There in the center of the box, resting securely in the perfectly shaped indentation, was a triangular shaped piece of opalized wood from one of Vulcan’s ancient forests. A treasure so precious that even a piece as small as a child’s thumbnail was worth hundreds in gold-pressed latinum. And here was a piece the size of his palm. The warm red gold wood was swirled through with bright twists of luminous blue, green, and purple.

Spock looked up at his two instructors, dark eyes wide. “This is unnecessary.”

“Indeed. However, it is well deserved,” countered Soval.

Spock looked down at the treasure in his hands. He had no words to counter them. Jim would tell him not to. To just accept that someone wanted to give him a gift, and bow gracefully to the rare kindness of another. Gently closing the lid, Spock bowed deeply towards the two men.

“I have no words to express the honor you do me with this gift.”

M’Rarw snorted amusedly at Spock, his lion-like tail swaying behind him, brushing occasionally against Soval’s thighs.

“Then you shall prove yourself worthy of this gift. Go to Starfleet and prove to the Vulcan Council that you, and the humans, deserve better recognition from them.”

Setting the wooden box carefully in with his other belongings, Spock raised his hand in the ta’al, dipping his head slightly towards his instructors. "Live long and prosper."

"Peace and long life," they responded in unison.

Although he would not be attending the Vulcan Science Academy and was sure the Starfleet Academy was the correct path for himself, he was aware that he would be turning down the opportunity to work with these two brilliant scientists, both of whom had never scorned Spock for his Mother’s blood, both of whom had encouraged him academically and personally.

Lifting the box into his arms, Spock turned on his heel and exited the rooms, the door making a soft swish as it closed behind him. He dared not remain lest they view the dampness gathering in his eyes.

“I see the council made the correct decision to decline you admission to the Vulcan Science Academy,” came a cold voice from a short distance down the hall.

Spock turned to face Stonn, who was walking towards him, watching Spock with the same haughty expression he had since they first met as children. T’Pring walked at his side, her face as devoid of emotion as ever. She was a perfect representation of the Vulcan people, cold and emotionless as every other species in the universe believed. Spock had grown to disliked her but he did not hate her. While she would choose to be bonded to the man who had made it his life’s goal to prove Spock a lesser being, T’Pring had never once said anything against him. She had never tried to emotionally provoke him as their classmates had, but neither had she defended him. She had been content to simply stand to the side and watch, waiting to see what would happen next.

“You are incorrect. The council accepted me into the Vulcan Science Academy.”

Stonn raised one eyebrow and came as close to sneering as a Vulcan would allow themselves. “Yet you are here removing your belongings from the Academy.”

“It would be illogical to leave the items here when I will be needing them elsewhere.”

“Yet you stated you are attending the Vulcan Science Academy," Stonn said.

“I did not.” Spock arched an eyebrow at Stonn. “I stated that I _was_ _accepted_ , not that _I_ accepted.”

“You declined to attend?” For the first time since they had met, Spock caught the flicker of emotion in his _ko-kugalsu’s_ voice.

“It is true.” Spock turned to face T’Pring, ignoring Stonn. “I declined the Council’s acceptance. It has been proven beyond question that Starfleet can offer the better future for me than the Vulcan Science Academy can.”

“Indeed,” the word was soft rather than the crisp sound that T’Pring normally spoke in. Spock was unsure what could have caused the change in tone, but he did not dislike the change. “I would speak with you.”

“That would be acceptable.”

“It is not.” Stonn grabbed T’Pring’s arm, pulling her behind him.

“She is not your _ko-kugalsu_ , Stonn."

"Neither is she yours," Stonn said in a tone of voice that was as close to a growl as he had ever heard the other Vulcan utter.

Spock’s eyebrow rose. "Despite your emotional desire to possess her, T'Pring is not yours. I cannot say she is mine for that would be a claim of possession and an honorable person would not own or posses another." With that said, Spock turned back to T'Pring, glancing to where Stonn's arm still gripped her own in an almost violent manner.

“Spock is correct,” T’Pring shook her arm lightly from Stonn’s grasp, her gaze sharp and piercing. “I am not your _ko-kugalsu_. I may speak with Spock at my choosing. When I have finished I may seek you out if I so choose.” T’Pring nodded towards the hall leading out to the central courtyard before turning away from them both with a graceful swishing of her dress. She walked away from the two men, knowing Spock would follow her and that Stonn would remain behind as she had requested.

The two remained in the hallway watching her leave before turning to face each other again.

“If you leave I shall not allow you to keep her. I will claim her as my own,” Stonn boldly stated with the assurance of the young and headstrong.

“If she would have you then I shall not stop you," Spock replied calmly. Even not knowing what his conversation with T'Pring would bring, he was certain that from this moment forward he would not have to deal with Stonn.

“Do you have no interest in her, _tekerik_?" 

“You should watch yourself, Stonn. You would not want others to see your emotional need to prove yourself superior to me in an illogical quest to increase your self respect.” With that said Spock turned to follow T’Pring’s path to the courtyard. He did not look back to where Stonn remained, his hands clenched in olive colored fists at his side.

The courtyard at the center of the student labs of the VSA building was more of a small _lap-bah-ker_ than a true courtyard. There were red stone paths weaving through the rare, lush desert grass that grew only due to the small aquifer feeding the garden. In between the paths were flowering plants and herbs for healing along with small succulent trees like the _tir-nuk_. It was a peaceful spot, ideal for meditation in between classes. T’Pring stood by a stone bench beneath one of the larger _tir-nuk_ trees, its pale yellow blossoms drifting down into her hair.

As he approached he mused on the esthetic beauty of his once _ko-kugalsu_. She was as beautiful as any woman of any species he had ever seen, but in his eyes she could not equal his _k’diwa’s_ beauty. Jim’s soul radiated its beauty past her physical features, filling the world around her in warmth and light.

She turned to watch him approach, her eyes sharp but not with the scorn and censure he had expected. Instead they seemed surprisingly calm, almost pleased. “You have taken another as your consort.”

“You have made it known that you would have Stonn. It was only logical to find another who would make a more suitable mate.”

T’Pring arched a delicate brow. “I have never stated I wished to be bonded to Stonn. In recent months it has been made clear he wished to be bonded to me in your place. However, the whims of a single man are hardly swaying."

"Are they not?" inquired Spock.

"They are not. His desires are not a reflection of my own."

"You do not want him?" Spock asked trying to hide his own confusion.

T'Pring carefully swept the fabric of her silver and blue dress out from behind her legs as she moved to sit on the bench, ignoring the way the flower petal occasionally flittered around her. "I do not want him the way he wants me. For a long while I thought it was so, but I have meditated on the matter over the past weeks and have come to understand that I wanted to be his wife no more and no less than I wanted to be yours."

Spock bristled like an irritated _shelat_. "Why have you chosen to come to me with this?”

T'Pring turned to look him in the eye, ignoring how he stood above her, shoulders drawn tight, defensive against a perceived insult. "You have chosen another as your future bondmate. You chose someone to be your equal. Would you have me do any less?" T'Pring watched Spock's shoulders relax. "I shall inform my parents that our bond will be dissolved before you leave Vulcan.”

“If they should inquire about the turn of events, you would confirm my position?” Spock quirked an eyebrow at T’Pring, curious if she would take the bait and reveal more.

“They shall see the logic in our bond being dissolved. It is the logical choice." Her eyes softened. "I am not a good choice of wife for you, and you are not a good choice of husband for me.”

"I see no logic in preferring to settle for Stonn over me." Spock wanted to wince. T'Pring had already made clear she did not want the dissolution of their bond to choose Stonn over him. She had merely stated they were not a good match for each other. He had slipped and let her see what he spent so much effort to hide.

“You have become much known among our people Spock, almost a legend. The first hybrid to successfully survive. You have also received the highest scores on the VSA entrance exam of any potential candidate from the last one hundred and fifty-three years." T'Pring gazed up at him, watching his expression carefully as she spoke. "I do not ask to break our bond so that I may bond with Stonn. I would ask that we break our bond because I felt the bond that you formed while away on Earth. I knew that it would only make you a true legend in the memory of our people. I thought of that bond and what the years ahead would be and as the days went by, I came to know that I did not want to be your consort in name only. I want to be a true consort, an equal. That I cannot be as long as you are _t'hy'la_ to another. I would not ask you to give up such a bond for me. It has been nearly three hundred years since there was a _t'hy'la_ bond last recognized."

" _T'hy'la_ ," Spock whispered in surprise, his legs giving out so that he dropped inelegantly onto the bench beside her.

T'Pring tilted her head a bit, before nodding to herself. "You were unaware of the depth of the bond you formed."

Spock stepped closer, opening his mouth to speak, but closing it again when he could not find the words he wished for.

"I hold no grudge against thee, S'chn T'gai Spock. I have spoken with the matron of your house and it has been agreed that if my hypothesis of your bond is correct, then we shall be allowed to go through _p'pil'lay_."

Spock looked away from T’Pring, up into the red sky and the branches of the _tir-nuk_ covered in its dainty yellow blossoms. “Thank you.”

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Day 41; 4:45 PM, Daisy's Diner, Riverside, Iowa**

 

Jim sighed and rubbed at his lower back with one hand. His back and hips were aching almost all the time. Carrying heavy plates of food around all day would get to anyone. As much as he was on his feet taking orders and carrying plates, he could be hurting a lot more. He was a hardy kind of guy though. He ran a farm practically on his own after all. Being a waiter wasn't nearly as hard as chasing Betsy back to the farm after one of the neighbor's bulls had lured her away. Another plus was the fact that the owners were willing to be flexible with his schedule so he could still attend to the farm and see his doctor. The customers had all been surprisingly kind as well. If he had known waitresses made this amount of money in tips, he would have gotten a job much sooner. Though he sometimes thought he was getting extra from the customers because everyone knew Frank was gone now just like his mother. He tried to ignore those thoughts and focus on the positive of having the extra money on hand to fix up the house.

He hadn't put on much weight yet, but he was also barely past a month pregnant. He had been spending more time on his feet since he got the job at the diner, so it wasn't like he wasn't getting any exercise. Plus there was the fact that he could barely keep food down these days. Dr. Phlox and Dr. O’Neill had been forcing him to take nutrient hypos twice a day, just to keep him healthy, and according to the two of them, if his morning sickness didn’t end in the next three weeks, they were going to have to look at further shots because he had already lost four pounds despite the small bump that was appearing as the baby grew. Jim was almost to the point where he didn’t care how many hypos they gave him as long as he could just stop throwing up.

Jim walked over to his last table of the day, chatting softly with the customers as he ran their credit chip through. They were an older couple that lived in town in a small house about three blocks away from the library. They had always been kind to Jim and he actually enjoyed serving them since they left a generous tip behind each time they came. It also didn't hurt that they were some of the few people in town who loved paper books as much as Jim did. You'd think, since Riverside had one of the largest libraries of pre-Eugenics War era paper books, that more people in town would like to read. But Riverside was a farming community, and even with all of the modern era's technology to make farming easier, a lot of people still spent most of their days working on their farms. Jim guessed they just didn't have either the time or energy left at the end of the day to go into town to borrow a book from the library. That always made Jim a little sad. He loved those books so much, and he wanted others to understand that as well. But most people didn't care because they could download the same book from the library’s digital archive, which was free to all residents of Riverside.

Even after running through Mr. and Mrs. Rosenstein's tab, Jim was content to pull up a free chair to sit and chat with them for awhile. The diner would still be open for another four hours to cater to the late shift coming out of the Starfleet ship yard, but Jim was now officially done for the night. He knew no one minded if he stayed and chatted a bit with the patrons. If one of the other waiters was late then they still had Jim around to cover until the other person got there, which had happened once already. In the meantime he got to eat something he didn't cook, and he got to talk with other people.

"So, I've been reading this book," started Jim.

"Lad," Mr. Rosenstein interrupted. "You have been reading books since before you could walk. Nothing new about that."

Jim let out a small laugh and only just held himself back from playfully slapping the elderly man's arm. "Yeah, but I haven't read this one yet."

"Go on then, Jim. Tell us about it," Mrs. Rosenstein said with a gentle smile.

"It's called 'The Clan of the Cave Bear.' It's all about this ancient early human being raised among Neanderthals."

"Ah," replied Mr. Rosenstein with a pleased hum.

"I read that when I was a young girl. You'll love it, and its sequels, Jim." She smiled and patted his hand, which was resting on the table next to his vanilla milkshake. "There was a movie made of the book as well. You might like it, though it isn't exact to the book."

"Cool," Jim said in a distracted tone of voice as he thought about what the sequels and the movie Mrs. Rosenstein mentioned might be like.

"Jim," called out Lissan, breaking the relaxed atmosphere. "Paul is here to pick you up."

Jim looked up and over to the front counter of the diner, where Mr. Freedman was sitting on a stool. The older man given him a jaunty little wave. "Don't rush yourself, Jim. You can finish eating first."

Jim gave him a grateful smile and looked down at the few remaining fries in the basket between him and the Rosensteins. There really wasn't much left and he wasn't sure he wanted them anymore. His stomach was rolling just a tad already. "Thank you for letting me sit with you both."

"It's no problem dearie." Mrs. Rosenstein gave him a warm, grandmotherly smile and another pat to his hand. "It's nice to talk with one of you youngsters about books. So many kids now don't seem interested in them anymore."

"It is nice," commented Mr. Rosenstein. "Our own grandson would rather play some of those new video games from Orion that came out in the last year than he would reading any book we suggested."

"His loss then." Jim squeezed her hand. "You guys always recommend the best books. So much better than any video game. Except maybe that last VR one that came out, but that was created by Starfleet as a way to introduce people to alien cultures." Jim trailed off, blushing as he realized he had started what could have become a rant on the only video game he had ever enjoyed. He really didn't care for them in general. Most seemed to be violent, or too fluffy for his tastes. This one was actually unique. You started by arriving in San Francisco and having to make your way through the city without getting into any fights with humans or aliens along the way. Then you had to locate a dive bar, merchant office, an alien consulate, or the Starfleet campus. Depending on which route you took, and how you interacted with the NPCs, would effect what races you could play and if you could play as a Starfleet character, an ambassador, merchant, or smuggler. And from there the game branched out in an almost endless amount of possibilities. If you went through Starfleet, your character had to graduate from the academy, which could be achieved through online tests disguised as games, before you could join a ship and explore space.

Jim had liked it because it took everything you had been asked to fill in to register with the game and combined it with how you acted at the beginning stages to determine what gender, species, or hybrid species you were. And often times you wouldn't know until you "graduated" to the second stage of the game. Jim actually had three different characters going currently that were all different genders, races, and jobs, though two of them had ended up as Starfleet and one as a smuggler.

"I think that is the game our grandson is playing."

Jim chuckled. "Well, it's probably similar. This one was made by a group of Starfleet cadets from what I've heard. Some kind of sociology experiment or something." 

"Hm," Mr. Rosenstein muttered. "We might have to get the name of that one. Might be better for him then than the one he's playing now. Too much violence in it, I think."

"Yeah, the old twentieth century games are getting popular again despite how violent a lot of them are." Jim pushed the basket of fries away and moved to get up. "You let me know if you want to know anything more about the game I have. I can show it to you if you'd like to see it for yourselves. It has potential violence in some of the higher levels when your character might battle Klingons or try to escape from Starfleet. But the game seems to try and encourage the players to find a non-violent path out of any given situation. Plus you don't pick your own race, so you could end up as any Federation species, and even some of the non federation species that we have more cultural details on."

Jim pushed his chair back into placed at the little table between the booth and the main counter. "One of my characters right now is a Caitian scientist. It's been interesting. So far it's taught me a bit of science, Starfleet codes of conduct, and Caitian cultural practices and languages.”

“It sounds like a lovely game, Jim,” Mrs. Rosenstein replied.

“Yeah,” Jim said. “Thanks again for letting me join you.”

Jim gave a little wave, grabbed his plates, and darted into the back of the restaurant before he could be sucked further into conversation. If he let himself be dragged into conversation further, which was easy to do with the Rosensteins, then he would be late for his appointment with Dr. Phlox and Dr. O’Neill. He hated visiting doctors, but Dr. Phlox was something special. The man was coming all the way from San Francisco to make sure that Jim and the baby were doing all right. There was no one else in the Federation with the first hand knowledge on male pregnancy in a species that was not meant for that to occur naturally than Dr. Phlox. Plus whenever he came over he told Jim all kinds of stories about different places he’d been to and the adventures that he had while serving onboard the Enterprise.

"Ready to go?" asked Paul.

Jim smiled and pulled on his bulky jacket. "Yup."

Mr. Freedman smiled, waved goodbye to Lissan and the Rosensteins, then followed behind Jim as they made their way out of the diner. Once they were outside Jim moved to the side of the walkway and waited for Mr. Freedman to indicate which direction to go. He could locate the man's truck on his own, but Jim didn't really like people at his back. Even people he trusted.

"I'm right over here." Mr. Freedman didn't comment on Jim pausing for him to lead the way. He just took it in stride as he seemed to do everything else. There were only a few other cars in the lot, mostly belonging to employees. A family of four waved at Mr. Freedman and Jim, the father giving them a nod and a smile as he locked up their car.

"What's good tonight, Jim?" the man asked.

Jim smiled at him. Although he recognized him, he couldn't place his name. Jim was fairly certain the family was a new arrival to Riverside. If he remembered correctly, the father had mentioned that he was one of the chief engineers working on the Enterprise over at the ship yard. "Well, they came up with a vegan chili chocolate tart for dessert tonight that is really good. Bit spicey though. The kids might like the banana fritters Lissan made this evening."

"That's only desserts," the man called back.

Jim chuckled and winked at the giggling kids. "What more do you need?"

The man laughed and shook his head, waving again before he turned back to his family, herding them inside the diner and out of the cold night air. Jim jumped a little as he felt Mr. Freedman's large hand on the small of his back, pushing Jim to start moving towards his truck again.

"Come on, Jim. It's a bit too cold out here for you to be in such a worn out coat, even if it is a winter coat. Let's get you back into the truck before the night air sucks out of the heat from the cab."

"Sorry," Jim responded and looked down at his shoes.

"No reason to be sorry, Jim. I'm glad to see you having friendly conversations with people. It's just that it is cold out and I would rather you not get sick. I can't imagine being pregnant is easy on your system, and adding a cold on top of that wouldn't be good for you."

"Oh." Jim licked his lips and sped up as they passed the last few feet to where the truck was waiting.

In the cold night air Jim could see steam from the hot engine, rising up from the hood of the truck, showing it had still been running recently. Mr. Freedman smiled and offered Jim his arm as support to get into the high cab, but Jim waved it off. He wasn't so fat yet that he couldn't get into the vehicle on his own. Jim actually dreaded that moment and hoped it never came. He looked odd enough with the slightly feminine features he still had, and he was not so secretly hoping he didn't end up with big breasts from this. Not that breasts were bad, but he really didn't want to be stuck with them. Then he would have to decide if he let people think he was a transsexual halfway through the transition, or he would have to come clean about what actually happened. Which might actually be the more embarrassing explanation.

"Is Dr. Phlox already here?" asked Jim.

"He is. I picked him up from the Starfleet ship yard about two hours ago. Dr. O'Neill is already at the house with him going over the blood work you had done by the doctor’s office a while back."

"What?" Jim turned to look at Mr. Freedman in surprise. "But that asshole said he didn't believe me!"

Mr. Freedman scowled but finished buckling his seatbelt before starting up the engine. "Dr. O'Neill had words with him. Don't you worry. The nurse however had already put in the request for the bloodwork. It got stopped by Dr. Buechi after your appointment, but the nurse never got rid of the blood sample so when word got to Dr. O'Neill, she made sure the blood work got checked for basically everything she could think of."

"Wow." Jim grinned and looked out the window at the lights of the city as they made their way through town and out towards the farm. "Doc is pretty badass."

"I'll be sure to tell her you said so." 

"Don't you dare!" Jim spun about in his seat. "Her ego is big enough." 

Mr. Freedman smiled widely, the flash of his white teeth shockingly bright in the dark cab of the truck. "She's not that bad, Jim. I can think of at least one other person I know who might just have a bigger ego on occasion." Mr. Freedman glanced at Jim briefly, his smile turning into a knowing smirk.

Jim scowled at him, folding his arms across his chest, and tried not to wince at the slight ache the movement caused as his shirt rubbed across his chest. He would not acknowledge that his chest was “tender” in any fashion. He may have been trying to convince himself he could live as a woman after it appeared he wasn’t going to change back, but he didn’t have to do that anymore. He had his dick back, even if his testicles were still internal, he didn’t have _breasts_. So yeah, he still had a vagina and his face was still a little feminine, but he was a guy. Guys didn’t get tender nipples.

Oh, who was he kidding!

Jim glanced down at his chest, lowering his arms carefully. He had a vagina and he was pregnant. Even if he had a dick he was still more girl than guy right now. He just hopped after the baby was born he would change all the way back like the others had. His life was complicated enough without tossing gender confusion issues into the matter.

The rest of the ride back to the farm was quiet as Jim mused over his circumstances and what future he might be able to create for himself now that he was, for all intents and purposes, a single parent. Mr. Freedman had seemed to catch the change in Jim’s mood, and like a man who had already lived through one pregnant woman, he kept his mouth shut. Unlike his wife, Jim’s mood swings had hit earlier and were a bit more chaotic. Jim hadn’t been meant to be pregnant and the riot of hormones was certainly making logical thought harder for him. It made him even more grateful that Mr. Freedman seemed to know when he was on the knife’s edge of a panic attack. The older man seemed to understand when it was okay to talk about Spock, the baby, Jim's temporary status as intersex, and when it would be better to talk about mundane things like the renovations on the farmhouse, or what kind of weather they might get this winter.

This obviously a “let's talk about weather'”moment.

Jim continued to stare out the window as Mr. Freedman talked about everything he would have to do to make sure the house and the barn could withstand the snow they were expected to get. He was only listening with one ear, which irritated most adults, but then Jim had started to notice that Mr. Freedman wasn't like most adults he knew. Mr. Freedman was willing to treat Jim like an adult despite the fact he was still a teenager. Maybe it was because he had raised Scott, who was also above average intelligence (though not at Jim's level)? Or maybe it was because had known Jim forever and had seen Jim practically running the farm on his own since Winona left for Starfleet again? Well, whatever the reason, Jim was thankful for it.

He should probably say something to that effect, but honestly...Jim didn't know how to express his gratitude. This wasn't like Mrs. Winston giving him her left-over casserole from Sunday diner. This was something special. 

"Thanks," Jim mumbled, too embarrassed to look up at Mr. Freedman.

Mr. Freedman said nothing, but when Jim risked glancing at him from the corner of his eye he saw the pleased smile on the other man's face and relaxed. 

Smiling himself, Jim looked back out the window, one hand coming up to rest against his expanding belly. It wasn't very big yet, but Jim could tell it was different. Maybe it was because he was originally a man and not built to carry a child, or maybe it was because it was a part of Spock still with him? He wasn't sure, but despite how scary the whole thing was, it was also kind of nice. There was a piece of Spock with him, a little someone who would love Jim unconditionally for years. He had never felt like he had anyone who loved him unconditionally before. Even Spock, as much as Jim had come to care for him, probably didn't love him unconditionally. Not that Jim doubted Spock loved him, or at least felt what affection a Vulcan could for him. But it wasn't the same as the love you got from a child, and Jim was looking forward to experiencing that kind of love directed at him. 

The rumble of the engine cutting off jerked Jim out of his thoughts, and he looked up, blinking at the sight of his home. He must have been lost in thought for longer than he had anticipated if they had made it to the farm so fast. Either that or Mr. Freedman had been speeding, which was highly unlikely.

Unbuckling himself, Jim popped the door open and hopped out. It was cold outside and Jim shivered, his breath ghosting in front of him. Rubbing at his arms he quickly moved to follow the older man up the drive and into the house.

Inside the house was lit and full of warmth. Glancing into the library Jim caught sight of a fire blazing in the fireplace already, and he could hear the clunk-clunk of the heater as it worked to heat up the rest of the house. Shrugging his slightly tattered coat off, Jim quickly put it away into the closet by the door, and walked towards the back of the house where Mr. Freedman had disappeared. He was in the kitchen, leaning against the counter talking with Dr. Phlox and Dr. O'Neil when Jim walked in. Dr. Phlox spotted Jim hovering in the doorway and greeted him warmly, his face stretched wide when he smiled. Jim couldn't help but smile in return.

"Well," Dr. O'Neil stated, spinning Jim about as she looked him over. She grimaced slightly as she looked at him before starring him down. "Are you still throwing up?"

Jim sighed. "Yes." 

"Hmm. That's to be expected from the hormone fluctuation, but I'd rather see you being able to hold more down." 

"I'd enjoy that too," Jim complained. "It's not like I enjoy throwing up all morning long." 

She smiled slightly as if she was struggling not to laugh. "I can understand that. Why don't we check you over and then see what we can do to help you with this?"

"Yeah, fine." Jim snagged the cup of hot cocoa that she had been holding, gulping the dark liquid down with a contented sigh. He hated the restriction they had put him on in regards to caffeine, but at least they still let him have this. It wasn't the same as a big cup of coffee or tea, but it was better than nothing, and Jim was not exactly picky about his food.

Jim set the now empty cup down on the table and strode off towards the guest bedroom, which had defaulted into the exam room after Dr. Phlox's second visit. He didn't know why he hadn't just led them up to his room, but a part of him recognized that it might have something to do with not trusting adults in his personal space. Not that he wasn't coming to trust these three adults, but trust was something that had to be earned with Jim. He wasn't willing to just hand it over, at least not to another human. Sarek, and by default Mrs. Amanda, had gotten his trust because Vulcans weren't the type of people to kill others without reason, or to starve children and hoard food for themselves. They weren't likely to get drunk and beat him up, or verbally abuse him. No, Vulcans were probably one of the few races that he knew he could trust right off the bat. Not that he would give them the opportunity to hurt him like a human adult would, but he was willing to extend his hand out for them without as much hesitation.

He was starting to feel more and more like he could do the same for Mr. Freedman, and the two doctors following behind Jim like ducklings. Little by little they were helping him to feel like he could trust people again. And it wasn't just them doing it. It was so many people now. It was Mr. Donnofrio from school, it was other students who previously avoided him, it was Lissan and the staff at the diner, it was people in the farmers market, and it was the staff at Mr. Freedman's vet clinic. All these people Jim had known since he was a child suddenly seemed to see him and put themselves in his path so that they could come to know each other. At first he hadn't understood why this was all happening, but...it couldn't be a coincidence that it was all happening after Frank took off for parts unknown.

Jim tugged his shirt off, dropping it on the chair by the window, and quickly followed it up by pulling off the rest of his clothes. It was horribly uncomfortable being naked in front of two fully dressed people, but they were going to ask him to remove his clothes for the physical exam soon enough anyway. And honestly, he was starting to get used to them, at least, seeing his strange naked body. 

"Would you like to start with the physical exam first, Jim? Or do the scans first?" asked Dr. O'Neil.

"Can we get the physical out of the way first?" he asked softly. 

She smiled at him, a gentle warmth in her eyes. “Sure." 

She waved Dr. Phlox forward, as Jim was more comfortable having the Denobulan do the physical exam. She wait patiently, noting down all the remarks Dr. Phlox was making about Jim’s height, weight gain, and other minor changes. When he finally asked Jim to lay back on the bed so he could take a closer look at Jim’s not quite human genitals, Dr. O’Neil stepped out of the room, knowing her presence made Jim nervous. She walked down the short hall to where Paul was sitting in the library. The veterinarian was leaning back in the wingback chair that Jim seemed to favor, a cold bottle of beer in hand. 

“How’s it look so far?”

“He’s put on some weight, which is good. But I am worried a little that his stomach has grown as large as it has already,” she said as she moved to sit on the couch nearby.

“You think there’s a problem?”

“I think,” she said glancing back towards the hall. “That Jim’s baby has more Vulcan genes than we’ve been planning for. I have to wait until the scan’s been done, but my guess is either he’s got two growing in there, or the baby is growing at a Vulcan pace and not the human pace.”

“Which means what?” Paul asked worried.

“That Jim’s going to be carrying a human sized baby for longer than a human woman would. The average Vulcan fetus grows twice as fast as a human fetus, but the pregnancy is longer because of the development process of the Vulcan telepathy.” 

“And since Jim is…mostly male…”

“He isn’t built to properly carry a child to full term.”

The two sat in an uncomfortable silence for several minutes as the full ramification of what lay ahead of Jim sank in. The pregnancy was going to be dangerous for Jim. They could only hope that enough of Jim’s biology had stayed female, that the pregnancy wouldn’t turn out to be lethal. 

The soft click of a door opening and closing in the other room caused them both to turn to face the doorway. A moment later Dr. Phlox walked into the room.

“We will need to alter Jim’s diet to include more iron rich foods. According to the scans the fetus is primarily Vulcan.” 

Paul cursed. “That makes this dangerous for Jim.” 

“It will, yes. Though the pregnancy is already high risk.” Dr. Phlox sat down next to Dr. O’Neil. “Jim’s body is adapting better than I expected. The chemicals that caused the change appear to still be in his system.” 

Dr. O’Neil’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. I took some blood to test further, but from what I am seeing in the scans and through the physicals, it seems to be partially re-writing Jim’s genetic code.”

“To what?” asked Paul.

“I’m not sure. I will need to study his blood work first.”

“Will it help him carry the baby safely?” Paul asked, hands clenched together in around his beer.

“I believe it might.” Phlox gave the man a reassuring smile. “The uterus and ovaries that Jim has look human at first glance but after studying the scans we’ve been taking, I believe that there are some fundamental differences. I won’t know for sure until I can compare the blood work, and likely until after the child has been born, but it appears to function more like an animal’s.”

“What?” Paul nearly shrieked. 

“Based on what I am reading in the scans, it appears Jim will not have a normal human female monthly cycle. He might go into estrus every other month, or he could go into estrus every other year. I will need months of study before I can be sure. At this time the best I can do is state that it appears likely his will be a stimulated ovulation, like a lioness. He will have a heat cycle, but if he doesn’t mate, he won’t ovulate.”

“I suppose that is something.” Paul took a long drink of his beer, glancing back towards the best room where Jim was likely getting dressed.

  

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**Day 45; 0930 VST, Planet Vulcan, Ancestral House of Surak**

 

Much like their initial bonding, the ritual of _P’pil’lay_ took place at the ancestral home of Spock’s clan. The matron of his house, his grandmother T’Pau, would officiate. They would hold the official ceremony as tradition demanded, despite Spock wishing otherwise. However, T’Pring had agreed to dissolve their fledgling bond and he would respect her request to do so in the traditional manner. He had bathed, dressed in his black ceremonial robes with the silver trim, and tied the violet silk sash around his waist. His mother and father would be waiting, along with T’Pring’s parents, the head of their clan, and several important members of each clan. As tradition demanded, there had to be a set number of witnesses. 

Closing his eyes, he took a deep steadying breath. Letting it out slowly, he stepped out of his preparation room and took the seven steps to the room where T’Pring was getting dressed. He stopped a few feet away from the door, and clasped his hands behind his back. He did not have to wait long for her door to open and T’Pring to step out. 

He inclined his head towards her, accepting her hand. She was dressed in an expensive, form fitting black gown with a delicately embroidered silver scarf wrapped over her head and shoulders, hiding her shinning black hair. 

Her hand was cool in his own, softer than Jim’s ever had been. She held none of the calluses on her hand that Jim had earned from hours of farm work. He could feel the edges of her mind in the palm of his hand, just as he was sure she could feel his. For once it was not painful or humiliating. For once it was peaceful. 

Together they walked down the long hall leading to the clan meeting hall. The massive, intricately carved wooden doors were already open to the hall beyond. As they approached, Spock could make out the imposing figures of his grandmother and T’Pring’s great-aunt. The two matrons sat side-by-side in the center of the raised dais. Spock’s parents stood on the left, which put them on his grandmother’s right. T’Pring’s parents stood on the opposite side, the two matrons between them and Spock’s parents. Save for his mother, all the faces watching them held the same stern, collected expression. 

As the two of them stepped through the doors into the great hall, two of their clan members moved behind them to close the great wooden doors. Once closed the two men remained standing beside the doors, directly behind Spock and T’Pring. The room felt echoingly large with so few people in it. It had been designed to hold three hundred, but there were only twenty people in the room not including the two of them. Spock calmly waited for the matrons to address them, taking stock of the room. Like many other older buildings, the hall had an intricately framed wooden ceiling with several small windows high up to let in light .They appeared hazy due to the smoke from the incense burning in the metal thuribles strung up from the decorative posts. The room itself was a long oval with raised seating on either side, stretching from the dias at the end of the hall, and circling back to the doors. There were seven people on either side of the hall bearing witness. All of whom belonged either to Spock's clan or T'Pring's clan. 

Finally Spock's father nodded towards T'Pau and took three measured steps to where the large gong was set up behind the two matrons. He picked up the baton and rang the gong once...twice...thrice. On the third ringing chime, Spock and T'Pring walked forward together, still hand in hand. They came to a stop at the foot of the dias and bowed to the heads of their clans, two of the most important women on all of Vulcan.

"Spock, son of Sarek of the house of Surak," T'Pau stated in her smooth voice.

"T'Pring, daughter of T'Proe of the House of T'Reen," stated T'Pring's great-aunt.

"You have come before the matrons of your clan for what reason?" T'Pau asked, her voice projecting to be heard throughout the massive hall.

"We have come before you to request the dissolution of our bond," Spock stated. 

"For what reason do you request a _P'pil'lay_?" asked T'Pau. 

"I have formed a spontaneous bond with another," Spock replied. 

"You confirm this, great-niece?" asked T'Pili. 

T'Pring inclined her head gracefully. "I felt the bond form."

T'Pili arched one delicately sculpted eyebrow at her great-niece. "This new bond can be severed." 

T'Pring shook her head. "It is my estimation that the bond that formed between my _sa-kugalsu_ and this other is a _T'hy'la_ bond." 

T'Pili's second eyebrow arched up to meet the first, and Spock was aware of a near silent rush of voices from the people in the stands. "What evidence do you have that this spontaneous bond is a _T'hy'la_ bond?"

"The strength of the connection is far greater than my bond to Spock, and has nearly severed the bond I hold with him." 

Again the crowd murmured quietly around them. 

"That does not indicate it is a _T'hy'la_ bond," stated T'Pili.

"It does not," T'Pring agreed. "I request that a matron tests the bond." 

"Very well," T'Pau stated before T'Pili could object. "Spock, son of my son, step forward."

Spock released T'Pring's hand and walked up the steps to the dias, kneeling before his grandmother. She reached out, gently placing her fingers in the proper positions. 

"My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts..."

T'Pring and the rest of those gathered watched as T'Pau tested the new bond Spock had formed with an as of yet unnamed individual. T'Pili glared down at her great-niece, her black eyes radiating her disapproval of the whole matter. T'Pring did not care. She would not be a second wife to Spock simply because the matron of her clan desired a closer connection to the House of Surak. T'Pring had made up her own mind. She would take a spouse to whom she would be an equal. No other would be acceptable.

She glanced at her parents who were watching the interaction between their daughter and the matron of their clan. They seemed far more calm about the whole matter, perhaps because T’Pring had already explained the entirety of the situation to them. Perhaps, also, because they cared not if their house was more tightly aligned with the House of Surak. Her parents had always been more focused on their research than with the political alignment of their House. It was an issue that her great-aunt continually debated with her parents.

After several long minutes, T’Pau blinked open her eyes and released her grip on Spock. The elderly woman leaned back in her seat, a contemplative look on her face. “After viewing the bond I must confirm that Spock C’ha Sarek does have a _T'hy'la_ bond with another who is not his _ko-kugalsu_.”

T’Pili’s lips twitched down slightly. She looked prepared to ask for Spock’s mind to test herself, though that was not a part of the _P’pil’lay_ ceremony. Finally she relaxed her fingers, her expression smoothing out. 

“Step forward T’Pring C’ha T’Proe,” demanded T’Pili in a cool tone.

T’Pring moved forward, copying Spock, and kneeing before her matron.

T’Pili placed her fingers against T’Pring’s psi-points. Her fingers pressed in, sending a small arc through the muscles of T’Pring’s face. She did not flinch. She would not lower herself to exposing pain in front of her great-aunt. 

T’Pili’s mind slid into her own like wet sandpaper, scratching at the edges. She grit her teeth and accepted the intrusion into the deepest part of her mind, where her bond to Spock resided. T’Pili reached into T’Pring’s mind, tugging at the pale yellow thread that formed the bond between T’Pring and Spock. T’Pring hissed back at her great-aunt as she tugged and twisted the bond, testing it, and try to travel through it to Spock. As T’Pring realized what the old woman was trying to do, she thrust a mental hand out, pushing her back. 

T’Pring drew herself up, drawing her shoulders out, and giving her great-aunt a stern gaze. T’Pili scowled but said nothing.

“If there is no rebuttal then it is agreed that the bond between Spock C’ha Sarek and T’Pring C’ha T’Proe, shall be dissolved,” T’Pau stated to the crowd. “Step forward.”

Together they stepped forward until they stood once again, side-by-side. 

“You are sure this is the course you need to take?” T’Pau asked one final time. 

“It is,” they said together.

“Very well.” T’Pau reached out setting her right hand over Spock’s psi points, then setting her left over T’Pring’s psi points. “Let us begin.”

  

* ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

**July 2248 - Day 55; 9:30 am, Cedar Rapids, Iowa**

 

Frank slammed the door to his brother’s renovated twentieth century brownstone. The bright blue door bounced in its frame from the force of its closing. He couldn’t believe this! Rick was his brother! Didn’t that rat bastard have any sense of family loyalty? He came to his brother for a place to stay and what does his brother do? He kicks Frank to the curb after a mere 40, maybe 50, days under his roof! Who did the blasted man think he was? Frank was the older sibling. He had protected his bratty little brother all through school. He had toughened him up, made sure he knew how to fight and to take a beating. And the little prick gives him ultimatums?

Frank tossed his two duffle bags in the back end of his beat-up Ford truck, slamming the flat-top down over the back end. Cursing, not so quietly, Frank climbed into his truck and started the engine, cursing even more at the loud pops and whines of the engine as it started up. Without the perverted little brat to tinker on it the engine was falling apart. All of this was that fucking kid’s fault. If it hadn’t been for Jim, Winona would still be there. If it hadn’t been for Jim, he still would have a good job at the mill. If it hadn’t been for Jim, he wouldn’t be broke. If it hadn’t been for Jim, he’d still have a house to call his own. If it hadn’t been for Jim, his brother wouldn’t have betrayed him. 

Frank slammed his fist down on the steering wheel, and spun out into traffic. A few of the hovercars in the road had to jerk out of the way as he sped off, their own horns screeching at him. He ignored them and sped down the street past blocks of old twentieth century brick house and storefronts. He wasn’t going to stay in Cedar Rapids if he was going to be treated like a fourth class citizen and a child abuser. 

No, he’d leave as his brother demanded.

For the next couple hours Frank drove aimlessly around the city, scowling and cursing at everything and everyone. It had been getting close to dusk when he left his brother’s house, and now it was completely dark. There were still shops, restaurants, and bars open, with little clusters of people here and there. The sight of them only angered him more. Who were they to deserve to be free to casually stroll around the city without a worry? He bet they were rich fuckers. 

Frank pulled over, watching a group of young drunks pass by. There were three young men, all in their twenties, crowding around one pretty little lady. The sight of them made his stomach rumble with an aching need for drink. He had run out of credit chips a few days ago and his brother was too much of an asshole to lend him more, so Frank had been forced to find whatever he could in his brother’s house to drink. He didn’t understand why his brother couldn’t have spotted him a measly $50 chip. It wasn’t like the bastard wasn’t loaded. He could have spared a couple thousand without hurting his bank account! 

Frank glared at the nearly empty bottle of whisky he had stolen from his brother’s house before leaving. He wanted to drink it all right now, but he couldn’t afford to waste the last half of the fifth.

Snarling he looked away from the bottle and back towards the group of drunkards. His eyes alighted on the figure of a tall, lean young blond man stumbling at the back of the group. He seemed slightly more intoxicated than the others, and none of them noticed as the lad stumbled over his own feet and crashed into the side of a building. His body slumped towards the sidewalk, head rolling against the brick wall behind him until the light of the nearby streetlamp caught it. In the near darkness of the street, the lad’s pale cream skin and short golden hair seemed to glow in the weak light of the nearby streetlamp. Frank’s breath caught in his throat as he looked at the boy. 

It was Jim! That fucking little cunt! 

A sudden wave of blood lust flooded Frank’s senses as he glared at his drunken stepson. The anger, humiliation, and rage that had been swirling around inside him for days, years even, roared to life igniting it in a towering inferno of hate. Without paying much attention to the street around him, Frank yanked open the driver’s side door and left the cab of his truck. His feet hit the sidewalk with a heavy thump. The drunk rolled his head in an eerily loose manner until he could blink up at Frank. He wasn’t sure if the punk could really see him or not, given the low light, and the glazed look in the blue eyes.

In all truth, Frank didn’t care. It was probably better if the little asshole couldn’t see him, then he wouldn’t be able to defend himself. 

A vengeful smirk tugged at the corners of Frank’s mouth. If anyone had been left on the street to see him, they would have started screaming for one of the robotic patrol bots that circled the city at night. 

Unfortunately for the blue-eyed boy, there was no one left close enough to see Frank punch him over and over again. Or to see Frank open the back hatch of his truck and shove the boys unresponsive body inside before closing it again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> 1\. Tekerik - deviant  
> 2\. Tir-nuk - a type of tree common in dry areas  
> 3\. Ko-kugalsu - fiancee; a woman to whom a man is engaged  
> 4\. Sa-kugalsu - finace; a man to whom a woman is engaged  
> 5\. P'pil'lay - a divorce/bond breaking ceremony


	10. Chapter 10

**July 2248 - Day 67; 0930 VST, Planet Vulcan, House of Surak**  
  
  
Spock thanked the Vulcan male and closed the door, looking down at the letter in his hand. The recycled paper felt heavy against his fingers, and illogically, he felt a pulse of excitement race through him at the sight of it. The only person who sent him mail written by hand on such stationery was his Jim. They were his most treasured possessions, if a Vulcan was wont to having treasured possessions. He looked about the house, noting the silence and headed out to the back garden. The day was unusually mild for Vulcan, much closer to an Earth summer, being all of 80 degrees Fahrenheit, with a wind of 2 MPH coming from the east.   
  
The garden at the back of their home was his mother's favorite part of the house. She spent an average of three hours a day outside tending to the plants. The largest part of the open air garden was made up of plants native to Vulcan, though there were a few edible desert plants from Earth mixed in amongst them. The far part of the garden, off to the side of the building, was his mother's personal favorite. It was a large greenhouse, dwarfed only by the greenhouses belonging to the VSA. It was carefully climate controlled and had a covered walkway leading from the greenhouse to what his mother called their 'mud room.' It was a simple room near one of the back entrances and the kitchen, used to store the clothes his mother used when tending the delicate Earth plants she grew in the greenhouse.   
  
Spock was sure that Jim would also like the greenhouse his father had built for his mother as a wedding present. It was very large and the aroma of the flowering plants, fruit trees, vegetables, and even the koi pond, was quite pleasing to the senses. There was a intricately carved set of wooden benches set around the pond at the center of the garden, a place his mother had often sat to tell him stories when he was younger. It was these benches that Spock was headed to now. He had taken to coming to this location whenever he received a letter from Jim. It was quiet and private enough that he need not worry that one of his parents might see what Jim sent him, in the off-chance that Jim sent something similar to the photos they had taken together.  
  
Spock took his place on the bench beneath the sakura tree. He had a good view of the garden, the pond, and the entrance. This would allow him time to return any private photos to the envelope before either of his parents could spot him. Spock set the letter on his lap, tracing over his name with one finger. Jim had written this, had put a pen to paper to write his name. He lingered over the envelope, pleased that his _k’diwa_ had taken the time and effort to do this all by hand for him as a sign of her affection and regard.  
  
The paper was a soft, buttery yellow color and the ink that Jim had used was a bright blue. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he was reminded of Jim by the coloring of the letter. Yellow for her hair, and blue for her eyes.  
  
Finally, he flipped the envelope over and carefully lifted the sealed opening. The paper made a soft tearing sound that seemed loud in the otherwise silent garden. It opened smoothly and Spock breathed out calmly. He had nearly torn the first letter in two in his haste to open it. Since then he always took care to control himself when handling any of the letters from Jim. He should take as great a care with them as Jim took to write them.   
  
_**Dear Spock,**_  
  
 _ **I hope that things are going well for you on Vulcan. Everything is alright here for now. Mr. Freedman’s son, Scott, has taken to helping me with the chores around the farm every day, so that I’m not so stressed out. It’s been a great help since we’ve also started on more repairs. We put on a new roof. Well, I say we, but it was actually more people than just Scott and me doing that. I also had the bug guy come out to make sure we didn’t have any termites eating through the walls of the house. There were a few, but we got them all. There is still a lot of work to do on the house though. I have to fix the support joints in the laundry room and parts of the pantry where the termites had ruined the supports, part of the wall will need to be replaced as well. Plus we still need to have an electrician come out to check the house over. It looks like there may be a bit of damage to the electric system as well. They don’t reckon it’s a hazard at this time, just that we’ll likely lose power a bit easier than expected as the winter weather comes in.**_  
  
Spock frowned at the paper. He was not pleased to hear that there was an unbounded, adolescent human male living in the house with his _k’diwa_. That was not at all a proper situation for his _ko-kugalsu_ to be in. Mr. Freedman seemed to have been a perfectly fine man, and Spock did not doubt his honor and desire to protect Jim. But his son was another matter. Spock had not met this human, and was not as sure of him as he could be of Mr. Freedman, even if he was assisting around the house with the animals, garden, and repair work. All honorable things to assist Jim with. Still, Spock did not understand why this boy, Scott, was living with Jim. He should still be living in his father’s household. Surely there was an elderly female who would be a better choice of house mate for his _ko-kugalsu_?  
  
 _ **I know what you are thinking, but you don’t have to worry. Scott is staying in the guest room downstairs where your parents were. If the power goes out or something else happens he’ll be close enough to catch it fast. I don’t think I really have anything to worry about, except for Scott leaving when he goes to college in the fall. He hasn’t told me where he has applied to yet, but I’m sure it’ll be impressive. He’s almost as smart as you!**_  
  
Spock scowled at the paper again, his fingers clenching at the paper until it crunched beneath them. The soft sound was enough to make him blink and rein in his controls. Jealousy was illogical. He knew that Jim was his _k’diwa_ and would not dishonor their bonding. He had no reason to fear this other human’s presence in Jim’s home.  
  
 _ **I thought you’d like to know that I got a job. It’s not an important one or anything fancy. Just a job as a waiter at the local diner in the evenings. I help cover the diner rush to closing shift. It’s hard work being on my feet for so long, but the tips are real good and that’ll help with the cost for all the maintenance on the house. Apparently my step-father had a lot of debts and most of the money we’ve been getting from renting out some of our land, has been going to cover his gambling debts, bar tabs, etc. Mr. Freedman is helping me get a lawyer so that we can make sure that Frank’s debts don’t come out of my money, or the money my family was getting from Starfleet after my Dad’s death on the Kelvin. Legally, my mom never gave Frank rights to the property, so all the money we were getting should not have been accessible to him. That’s thousands of credits that he’s stolen over the years! Money that should have gone into the house repairs, and to my college fund!**_  
  
 _ **The lawyers aren’t sure how long it’ll take to get the reparations on what he’s stolen. Hence the reason for the job. I was going to save up the money for college, and then just rent the whole of the farm, house and all, while I was away. Now it looks like I might have to take online classes instead. Possibly only a couple a year considering the cost of schooling, and what I’ll need to pay to fix up the house and barn. I don’t want you to think this means I’ve given up though! I haven’t! I’m just going to have to put college aside for a year or two until all the legal crap has been taken care of. It could be a good thing though, since I’m not sure what I want to get a degree in. I’m thinking Computer Science or Engineering, but I’m not really sure. There are a lot of things that interest me that would be good options.** _  
  
Spock found himself reining in his emotions again as he realized just how badly Jim’s family had left her off. She was an exceedingly smart human. Smart enough she could have joined the VSA if she wanted, but because of the adults who were tasked with watching over her, that would not be feasible. Spock did not understand how any human adult could treat a human child the way Jim had been treated. Things would get better. They were getting better now that her previous guardian was no longer in the picture. Mr. Freedman would take much better care of her, for if he didn’t he would have the wrath of the combined intelligence of the House of Surak put against him.  
  
 _ **I’ll let you know when I decide what to do. For now I think I’m going to focus on learning Vulcan, and maybe Denobulan, then completing all the basic courses that any degree would require. And maybe I’ll still start the Computer Science course just for fun. I’m pretty good at hacking already. Not that I do, mind you! At least not any important sites. I hacked Starfleet once to read my father’s service record, but they caught me and Admiral Archer actually came to the house! My mom was so embarrassed when she realized what I had done. I was like five years old then, so I don’t think she thought I even knew how to turn on her computer terminal. Thankfully, Frank wasn’t around then. Well, they were married already, for only a couple months, but he had an actual job at that time. So he wasn’t there during the day, which was nice. I thought for the longest time that mom left because of that incident. That maybe she thought she had to go back to Starfleet so they wouldn’t prosecute me for hacking their systems. I used to tell myself that was why she left. To protect me. I stopped believing that a few years later, when I realized it was more that she didn’t like looking at me.**_  
  
 _ **Anyway, that was depressing! Sorry!**_  
  
 _ **Uh, how about I just tell you some of the local news instead of all this embarrassing “woe is me” crap?**_  
  
 _ **We’ve got a serial killer in Iowa. Well, we don’t know for certain, but the odds are pretty high. The first body was found 10 days ago, but they think he was dead for at least 2 days prior to the body being found. It was a really nasty one too. All five found so far have been nasty. The press is dubbing the killer the Iowa Ripper, after the infamous Jack the Ripper of London. The victims are both male and female, but all pretty similar in type. They have been spread out over a large area of Iowa though. So far bodies have been located in three cities. All of them show signs of having been beaten and sexually assaulted before being mutilated. It’s really gruesome and Mr. Freedman won’t let me go anywhere without him or Scott being with me. So one of them always drops me off at work and picks me up. Plus, Scott is basically living here at the house full time now as well, so you don’t have to worry about anyone getting me alone here.**_  
  
Spock nearly tore the paper in half as he finished reading the paragraph describing the brutal murders. Jim, his _k’diwa_ , his _ko-kuglasu_ , was in danger! There was someone killing people and he wasn’t there to protect her!  
  
Spock jumped to his feet, nearly falling into the koi pond in his haste to get out of the garden to where he could hire a ship back to Earth. He had to get back to his Jim! He simply couldn’t allow her to be in danger when he was not there to protect her. He knew she was strong and capable, but if it was a serial killer he could not chance that the killer was more competent in combat than Jim was.   
  
“Spock,” called his mother. “What’s wrong!”  
  
Spock nearly did not come to a stop in time to prevent himself from crashing into his mother who had entered the green house carrying a large bag of fertilizer. “I apologize, mother, but I must get to a comm. I need to acquire transportation to Earth.”  
  
“Whatever for? We’ll be leaving for Earth in only a few days.”  
  
“Jim is in danger.”  
  
“What?” She dropped the heavy bag on the ground in shock, her eyes wide. “What do you mean that Jim is in danger?”  
  
“Jim has sent a letter detailing information that suggests their is a serial killer loose in Iowa. We cannot leave Jim to be harmed.” Spock moved to hurry back into the house again, but his mother grabbed his arm. He was forced to stop moving lest he hurt her in his haste to get inside.  
  
“You aren’t going to rush into a dangerous situation, Spock.”  
  
“Jim-“  
  
“Is more than capable of taking care of himself. There are people in Riverside who will be watching out for Jim.”  
  
“Mother, I must-“  
  
“No,” she said firmly. “We shall contact your father at his office in town and ask him to check on the situation. If it is dangerous then he can have someone from the consulate go to town to watch over Jim.”  
  
“I must-“  
  
“No,” she stated again. “By the time you got there, the whole thing could already be taken care of. If it isn’t, I still don’t want you rushing in. You are my only son, Spock. I love Jim, I do, but I cannot lose you. You will have to accept that one of the consulates security team will be enough to protect Jim if needed.”  
  
Spock closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. His mother would not release him until he had calmed. She was also right. He could not afford to rush into the situation without all the facts. If it was a serial killer, then there was every possibility that Jim did not match the killers preferred prey. If that was the case then Jim was safe and his rushing in to rescue her could be detrimental. Jim was not the type of human female one would ever consider a “damsel in distress,” even when she obviously was in distress. She could become upset with him if she came to the conclusion that he was impulsive, jealous, and over protective. She had, after all, run a farm on her own for most of her life. She was highly intelligent as well. Not the type to foolishly put herself in a position where she could be harmed by such a monster.  
  
“Very well,” he finally agreed. “We shall call father now to ask for his assistance.”  
  
She looked up at him, brushing aside his bangs with a single, gentle motion. “Don’t fret, Spock. We’ll all make sure that Jim is all right.”  
  
“Thank you, mother.”  
  
“Now, why don’t you tell me what Jim has been up to since we’ve come back.”  
  
  
* ~ * ~ * ~ *  
  
  
 **Day 71; 9:30 pm, Iowa City, Iowa**  
  
Frank leaned back in his chair, looking out over the bar from where he was partially hidden in the shadowy back corner of the room. There was a hunger burning in his belly again. It was part rage, part hate, and part lust, all rolled into a loosely controlled inferno. Killing that first boy, it had sated everything for a short while and he had been able to forget about that fucking cunt and his crazy bitch of a mother. Unfortunately, killing the boy had only smothered the inferno for a brief time and when all those emotions came back, well, they were even worse than before. There was something freeing in watching the life fade from someone’s eyes. And while those he killed weren’t his step-son, they looked enough like him to help, to feed the rage and hate, and everything else.  
  
He’d been lucky so far. No one seemed to have figured out he was the one killing all those kids. Part of him thought he should stop before they figured it out and he was put to death, or locked away on a prison planet somewhere, but remembering the feel of their bones breaking, their skin parting and running red…it was just too tempting for him to stop.   
  
He had thought at first that his switching between boys and girls would make it harder for the cops to figure out it was one guy, but the news had latched onto the fact that all of the people he killed were able eyed, with short blond hair. What they didn’t know is that not all of them had short hair at first. He didn’t care if their hair was short, as long as it was blond. If it was blond then he could imagine that the person he was rending apart was Jim. That disgusting little fag had been a thorn in his side for years. He should have drowned the kid the moment his mom decided to rejoin Starfleet. The older brat was quiet at least. He had learned real fast to keep his trap shut around Frank, and to stay out of sight. Jim, the little fucker, seemed determined to call attention to himself.  
  
Frank took a long drink of his beer, licking the frothy head off his lips. His angry, beady eyes flicked about the room again, looking for his next playmate. There weren’t many people in the pub tonight. Mostly they seemed to be regulars, people who knew each other and greeted everyone. People who would be missed.  
  
So he sat back and waited. When the pretty barmaid came by he ordered another whisky and a beer. He tossed back the whisky and pulled the beer close to himself, leaning back deeper into the shadows from where he could watch as new people came in and others left.  
  
Finally, after hours of waiting, and two more beers, she walked in.  
  
Frank smiled into his half empty beer glass. He waited, watching her straighten her white uniform as she settled in at another table nearby, a glass of beer and a plate of fish and chips soon being delivered to her table. She pushed her short blond hair back from her face revealing bright blue eyes, and she glanced around the room nervously. His lips stretched wide around his teeth, the smile more of a barring of teeth like a rabid wolves, than any normal human smile.  
  
Jim never noticed him, she just hunched her shoulders, looked back down at the table, and dug into her food like she was half starved.  
  
The fire inside him stirred to life, jumping and twisting inside as he watched Jim nervously eat like a terrified doe at a watering hole guarded by hungry wolves.  
  
  
* ~ * ~ * ~ *  
  
  
 **Day 72; 6:15 am, Vulcan Consulate, San Francisco**  
  
Sarek stepped out of the hovercar, straightening his robes as the driver closed the passenger door behind him. The man, an Orion, moved to the back and unloaded the single piece of luggage Sarek had brought with him. He offered to bring the luggage up to the door but Sarek waived him off. He might be gray now, but he was hardly an invalid. With a tip of the hat and an inclined head, the Orion left Sarek and returned to his car.  
  
Sarek picked up the handle of his bag and made his way up the steps into the old mansion that had long since been converted into the Vulcan Consulate. The mansion, he long since learned, was originally called the Hellman Mansion and was one of the few neoclassical mansion in San Francisco that survived both World War III and the Eugenics War. In fact the houses on either side of it had been so badly damaged that they had not been worth saving. When first contact had been established and the humans decided to form an alliance with the Vulcans, they had offered the house and the land around it for the consulate. The Vulcans had not understood at first what the humans meant by a consulate, but eventually they came to understand, and while a consulate in a warmer climate such as Death Valley, or anywhere closer to the equator, would have been preferred, San Francisco had been one of the few cities that had come through the wars relatively intact, and still had buildings considered appropriate for a consulate.  
  
The Hellman mansion had undergone changes over the last couple hundred years. It had been expanded in size, a security wall built around it, a garden and two large greenhouses put in. The expansion was carefully crafted by the humans to match the originally architecture while also meeting the needs of the consulate and its staff. The humans had even gone so far as to add what they had called a panic room in the basement, as well as security safe. The four level mansion still had the wrought iron and hardwood front door, a reception hall with a double curved staircase, grand outdoor terraces, main and catering kitchens, 14 fireplaces, wine cellar and iconic views of Alcatraz, Angel Island and beyond. It also boasted two formal dining rooms, a private dinning room, a large conference room, a large two story library filled with paper books, scrolls, and various antiques, several offices, private quarters for all the permanent staff, several quest suites, a master suite complete with au pair suite for Sarek and his family, a sauna and steam room, and its own private medical facility.  
  
His wife was very fond of the consulate and had even mentioned that she would love to have a smaller version of the home, or a Victorian style version of it, as a vacation home. He had thought of acquiring one for her, but it seemed an unnecessary expense given that they had very little “vacation time” between his duties as Ambassador, and her work one continually improving the Universal Translator. As he stepped into the large reception hall he paused to look over the room, taking in the gleaming woodwork, sandstone colored walls, and the decorative carpets in the waiting area. The Vulcan behind the desk on his right, tucked in between the stairs and the outer wall, stood up, lifting her hand in the traditional greeting.  
  
“I come to serve,” Sarek stated, his own hand raised.  
  
“Your service honors us,” she replied. She reached down to the touch-screen on her desk, quickly tapping at it with practiced ease. “Sorrel and Savel shall be here momentarily, Ambassador Sarek, to assist you with your return.”  
  
Sarek inclined his head as T’Rell slowly returned to her seat. Across from him the old fireplace was lit, filling the room with a pleasant smoky scent of burning Calla Wood, a fast growing tree from one of the colony planets. Calla Wood had become quite popular as a paper substitute and a wood for burning as it grew as rapidly as Terran bamboo. It was not hard enough to use as a building material but the colonists had found that it could still be used for many purposes, including the weaving of fabrics. The Vulcan Consulate regularly imported the wood for use in the fireplaces of the consulate. Sarek knew that one of the maids who helped to keep the consulate clean would also be up in his suite of rooms, lighting fires in the fireplaces there. They would not waste the wood on rooms that were not in continuous use, despite the wood being a resource that was not likely to be wiped out as many species of flora had nearly been on Earth in the twentieth century.  
  
“Ambassador Sarek,” came the smooth baritone of Sorrel, his chief aid and the person who held control of the Consulate when Sarek was off world.  
  
“Greetings, Sorrel and Savel.”  
  
“Greetings,” they replied.  
  
Savel moved to his side, lifting the bag placed next to Sarek’s feet, and turning on his heel in a single graceful movement. Without a comment he left the room, heading down the hall that would lead to the servants’ elevator that would allow him to quickly transport Sarek’s luggage to his room, while bypassing the main halls of the consulate. Savel had been his trusted butler, as the humans called the position, for nearly thirty years now and needed no instructions as to what Sarek would require of him. Sarek knew that by the time he had finished speaking with Sorrel in his office, Savel would have unpacked his travel case and ensured his room was ready for him with a meal being prepared.  
  
“Your communication was vague,” commented Sorrel.  
  
“Indeed.” Sarek moved to the stairs that would lead up to the higher floors where the offices and the sleeping quarters were. “We shall converse on the matter once we have reached my office.”  
  
“As you say,” agreed Sorrel.  
  
The two of them quietly made their way up the stairs. By the time they reached the small landing at the top of the stairs at the fourth floor, Sorrel’s curiosity was piqued, or at least as piqued as any Vulcan would allow it to be. Sarek quickly typed in the passcode, then lay his palm against the scanner next to the door that would give them access to the fourth floor. The entirety of the fourth floor over the original house was set aside specifically for the Ambassador and his family. It held two bedrooms with a shared bath, a master suite with master bath, a private dining room, a large sitting room, and Sarek’s office. The door directly at the top of the stairs opened onto a long hallway with only two doors. One would open into Sarek’s office, and the second would open into the sitting room at the heart of the Ambassador’s private living quarters. The floor below was much the same though there was no door immediately at the top of the stairs. It opened into a small hallway which had the stairs to the fourth floor off the left, and the locked door leading to the staff’s private quarters on the right. All of the offices were on the second floor, and only the public areas were on the ground floor. It had served the consulate well enough over the years, allowing the Ambassador a sense of privacy despite the large number of live in staff, and prevented guests from wandering into areas they were not meant to be.  
  
As they entered the private hall on the fourth floor, Sorrel quietly followed behind Sarek to the first door, which entered into Sarek’s office. This door, like the door they had just gone through, had multiple levels of security in order to access the door on the other side.   
  
Sarek’s office was a mixture of human architecture and Vulcan aesthetics. There was an intricately woven Vulcan carpet covering the wooden floor, artifacts on the shelves on either side of the fireplace, an incense burner on one of the book shelves opposite the fireplace, and a meditation mat hidden in a secret panel under the bookshelf. The woodwork in the room was much like the rest of the house, a rich dark wood that rose halfway up the wall. The wall above the wood had been painted by a human artist who had journeyed to Vulcan as part of the first diplomatic envoy. The mural was an impressive feat, done mostly in natural pigments painted over hand laid plaster. The mural depicted one of the most beautiful landscapes on Vulcan, where the mountainous desert met the sea. The reds and golds of the land meeting the blues and greens of the sea, and dark night sky filled with stars at one end of the room by the bookshelves, slowly shifting into sunrise at the end above the fireplace. Like the other murals throughout the building, it was a masterpiece of skill. Every mural in the building, save the one in the main ballroom, was a landscape of Vulcan. The mural in the main ballroom was the only one of Earth. That mural depicted the first contact between Zefram Cochrane and Vulcan crew of the T’Plana-Hath.   
  
Sarek took a seat in the leather chair behind his desk, Sorrel taking his usual seat across from the Ambassador. He set his PADD in his lap, keying in the code to activate it in case he needed it. The Ambassador leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him, pointer fingers tapping gently against his chin.   
  
“She who is my wife has requested that I look into the matter of the serial murders taking place in Iowa.”  
  
Sorrel blinked slowly. “Was there a purpose to her request?”  
  
“She is worried about a human child we encountered when we were last on Earth. The boy lives without his parents or guardian, and his physical appearance matches the physical appearance of the victims.”  
  
“Is the child a relation of Lady Grayson’s?”  
  
“No,” Sarek lowered his hands to his lap. “The child is James Tiberius Kirk.”  
  
Sorrel blinked slowly again, fighting down the urge to lift one eyebrow in surprise. “The child born during the destruction of the USS Kelvin.”  
  
“Indeed.”  
  
“Has Starfleet offered protection to the child?”  
  
“No.” Sarek’s lips twitched downwards at the corners just the slightest bit, and Sorrel had to force himself to ignore the expression of the Ambassador’s feelings. “Young James does not seem to have any regular contact with Starfleet.”  
  
“Surely that is not wise,” said Sorrel.  
  
“Perhaps not, but I shall respect the lad’s wishes. He has proven an adaptable and intelligent child despite his youth. I am of the opinion that he would qualify to join the VSA.”  
  
“Indeed,” Sorrel said a little surprised.  
  
“His current instructor has contacted a teacher at the VSA to supply James with educational material as he has surpassed what is being taught to his peers.”  
  
“Fascinating.”  
  
“Quite.” Sarek paused again, gathering his thoughts. “I would ask of you to look into the matter of these killings. Advise me if what has been reported by the Federation Press is accurate, and if needed, provide protection for James until the killer is captured by the local authorities.”  
  
“Should I attempt to capture the killer?”  
  
“Only if he attempts to harm James. We shall not interfere with the ongoing investigation otherwise.”  
  
“Very well.” Sorrel made several quick notes on his PADD. “Was there anything else I can be of assistance with?”  
  
“I will need you to confirm with the Betazed consulate the time of the meeting tomorrow. There is still much to sort out in regards to the convention they wish to hold, and our part in it.” Sarek took a deep breath. “If you should need to, you may approach Dr. Paul Freedman of Riverside, Iowa. He is the closest thing to a parental guardian that James currently has, and according to Spock, the man and his son have taken to providing protection to James.”  
  
  
  
* ~ * ~ * ~ *  
  
  
Severon had been working in the mail department of the Vulcan Consulate on Earth for 12.5 years and he had completed his job with the utmost of professionalism for the entirety of that time. He would ensure the safety of the members of the Consulate and his people by whatever means were necessary. Lately that need had grown more urgent. A human named James Tiberius Kirk had been sending frequent letters through the consulate for Ambassador Sarek’s youngest son, S’chn T’gai Spock. As was his duty, Severon had opened each latter to confirm its contents were not meant to cause any physical or mental trauma to the Ambassador or his family. Until now, the letters had been harmless. The human boy, who Severon had researched through the Consulate’s database, was the son a Federation hero. He held high marks from his educational institution and was receiving supplementary educational materials from the VSA. There were only two points in his history that were questionable. One was a police record where James Kirk had driven a twentieth century automobile over a cliff into a rock quarry, and a second which was sealed per Starfleet order, specifically from the office of Admiral Jonathan Archer. Based on the date of the file being sealed and whom had sealed it, Severon had come to the conclusion that whatever the incident was, it was not a criminal matter. As such, the only criminal matter had been the destruction of property. No charges had been filed from the incident as the person who originally tried to lodge a complaint was not the legal owner of the vehicle in question. The matter had been set aside as a failed attempt at suicide.  
  
Current medical data that he had been able to hack into showed that James Kirk was not a threat to others. He showed signs of a dietary disorder which was being treated by his doctor, and that he had been to see a Betazed mind healer for a case of PTSD that started around the same time that the file had been sealed by Starfleet. There were no notations that he was considered a suicide risk, or that he was prone to violent outbursts. As such Severon had concluded that the letters and their content was no threat to S’chn T’gai Spock.   
  
Still, he opened and read each one as was his duty.  
  
As he let the steam rise up around the envelope, Severon contemplated the strange young human writing to the Ambassador’s son. James Kirk was far more intelligent than Severon had even thought possible for a human. He was also just as odd and emotional as Severon had come to expect from the species. Despite that, there was something in the words he put on paper that was drawing Severon’s attention.   
  
This newest letter was different however. This letter talked about how James Kirk had lied to Spock, leading him to believe he was a she. That there had been an accident with some alien chemicals and James Kirk had ended up female. James Kirk explained that he had not meant to lie to Spock, or to lead him on, that instead James Kirk had felt a strong and immediate connection to Spock. That he truly loved Spock and wanted to be married to him some day if Spock could forgive him for lying about his gender. Severon had read the letter in disbelief. All known information on humans, and there was a lot of it, stated that the species was unable to change gender at will or unconsciously without outside medical intervention.   
  
His disbelief only grew as he continued to read. James Kirk went on to explain that he had not mentioned the situation in earlier letters because he cared about Spock and was worried that Spock would decide to rescind his proposal of marriage. Severon had frozen at that point, knowing that the Ambassador’s son was engaged to be bonded to T’Pring of the House of T’Reen. Even if Spock was a half-blood, he had been raised the Vulcan way and was not likely to have offered to marry another after such a short time in their company. Worse yet was the vid chip that had been in the envelope. When Severon had put it in his terminal and opened it he had found several image files along with a large video file. Opening the video file he had been surprised to find the digital recording of a sonogram showing a human fetus barely two months into gestation.  
  
Severon found himself unsure on how to proceed. James Kirk did not appear to be mentally unstable despite the attempted suicide as a pre-teen. His letter showed him to be an emotional but well adjusted and smart example of his species. Yet here was a letter stating that James Kirk had been turned into a human female, that he was still partially female, and that he believed himself to be pregnant with Spock C’ha Sarek’s offspring.  
  
Sitting back in his chair Severon contemplated what his proper course of action should be. Did he request a meeting with the Ambassador despite his busy schedule, did he bring the matter up to Sorrel, or did he investigate the matter further on his own authority?  
  
  
  
* ~ * ~ * ~ *  
  
  
 **August 2248 - Day 87; 10:45 am, Kirk Family Farm**  
  
Scott had been outside working on the house for most of the day. Jim had tried to go out and help him, but at nearly four months pregnant, his already growing belly was making it more and more difficult to do so. His back ached all the time, he had to pee almost every five minutes, and he found himself overwhelmingly exhausted for most of the day. Of course these were only the newest symptoms. He still had weird food cravings and some horrendous morning sickness. It was a straight up pain in his ass, but he wouldn’t give up his little baby for anything.  
  
There were rare moments when the aches in his body finally piled up enough for him to briefly wish he hadn’t gotten pregnant, but then the guilt would hit him for even thinking it and he would be depressed and miserable for days. Scott, Mr. Freedman, Dr. Phlox, and Dr. O’Neill had been great at these times. Each of them had found some way to lighten Jim’s mood out of the dark thoughts. They distracted him with stories of their homeward, their families, crazy clients, sometimes they even distracted him by encouraging the dogs to play and cuddle with him. Jim knew it wasn’t just the pregnancy they were trying to distract him from. There were all the issues with the house, the farm, and even the serial killer who was still on the loose. But with all of them pooling their time and skills together they were succeeding in helping him to forget all the bad things happening.   
  
Of course, Jim’s letters from Spock helped too. Jim had been glad to hear that Spock had been able to break off his engagement to the Vulcan girl chosen for him, and that all of his schooling on Vulcan had been completed. Jim still hadn’t been told if Spock had been accepted into the VSA or Starfleet yet, though how either institution could decline him admission was beyond Jim. Spock was probably the most intelligent person Jim had ever known. He sent Jim all kinds of interesting articles about new discoveries made by all kinds of scientists, even ones working in fields Jim had never cared for. But with all of Spock’s notations added in digitally to the files, they suddenly became some of the most interesting things he’d ever read. Jim, of course, also sent articles on things he found interesting or of note to Spock. Their last few letters had all been full of academic, social, and cultural discussions on the various articles and news stories of the time.  
  
Jim’s mind felt alive like it hadn’t in years!  
  
Spock’s letters weren’t the only thing to be happy about though. Jim had also found himself very happy with the elderly Denobulan as a person, and budding friend as well. Dr. Phlox was surprisingly kind, and a fount of strange information and stories that never ceased to amuse Jim. Plus, Jim had found him easy to talk to. Enough so that he brought up his concerns about how easy it had been to recognize himself as a “she” and then switch back to thinking of himself as a “he.” There was also the occasional moments where he still caught himself thinking about himself in terms of being female, and Dr. Phlox had been able to talk him out of any emotional panic it caused him. Their conversations spanned days and covered every concern Jim didn’t realize he had.   
  
Scott had also been talking with the doctor when he was in town to check on Jim, and Jim was of the opinion that Scott was having issues with the genderswap as well…or maybe he was disturbed about Jim being pregnant? Jim wasn’t certain and he was secretly afraid that it was the latter. Of course, Jim sometimes thought that maybe Scott was simply enjoying the man’s knowledge and experience as well, getting his feedback on the various colleges and programs offered throughout the Federation.  
  
Jim didn’t know what to think. So in true Jim fashion he had run full tilt into the problem only to be told that he was worrying about nothing. That was irritating, but at least now Scott talked to him about his own time as a girl. It was bringing them closer together as well and Jim found himself spending a lot of time with Scott. Their friendship was growing deeper by the day and Jim was finding himself so relaxed and happy it was amazing. Even when he was depressed he was still happier than he had been since Spock’s brief visit.   
  
With so much time on his hands now that he had been told he couldn’t stay working on his feet at the diner as he was, Dr. Phlox had suggested Jim begin his college courses online so that once when he was ready he could get a good job to help with the income to fix the house and raise his child. Jim had been thinking about it as well. There were several good colleges that had some reputable programs that could be either completed or partially completed online. And at least five of those were degrees and classes that could be transferred over to Starfleet classes. He was trying to narrow down the one or two degrees he wanted but there were so many things that sparked his interest. Maybe it would be a good idea to try a dual major? Or maybe a minor in one of the choices?  
  
He knew he wanted to at least go with a computer science or a computer programming course. Not that it would teach him more than what he already knew, but maybe he could test out of most of the classes and just do the advanced level course and get a major in it in one year rather than four or more. A minor in xenolinguistics could work, that would at least allow him to learn Vulcan. Of course if he did that he should try to learn a couple other languages as well. Maybe Orion, Andorian, and Klingon. He could even get Dr. Phlox to teach him Denobulan. It would be kind of nice to be able to talk with Spock and Dr. Phlox in their own languages. It would probably be better to focus only on two or three languages for now if he was going to try and get a degree in one or more other fields at the same time.  
  
“Good morning, Jim. How are your symptoms today?”  
  
Jim turned to look away from the front yard and over to the elderly Denobulan standing beside the porch swing. He had arrived back in Riverside the day before after having gone to a medical conference on the Space Station orbiting Earth. He didn’t look tired at all and Jim often wondered if the man even slept. It always seemed like he was awake no matter what time of day or night Jim saw him. It was a little weird, but then as far as Jim knew Denobulans didn’t need as much rest as a Human.  
  
“I’m bored outta my mind, Doc. Scott won’t let me do anything but sit here and sip lemonade.”  
  
Dr. Phlox gave Jim a wide smile, his eyes twinkling in that way that let Jim know the good doctor knew something that Jim didn’t. “Scott is a fine young man. He merely worries about you and the child you carry.”  
  
“Yeah, whatever.” Jim crossed his arms over his tender chest and pouted. “I’m still bored though.”  
  
Dr. Phlox moved to take the empty spot next to Jim on the porch swing. “Have you thought further on your studies?”  
  
Jim sighed. “I haven’t decided yet. There are a couple programs I am looking at and I’m not sure which one to do.” Jim leaned his head back against the back of the swing and closed his eyes. “The best programs are all designed to work into the Starfleet courses and honestly I don’t know how I could do a career in Starfleet with a child. It would be nice but I’d get stuck planet bound rather than be placed on a starship. Unless of course I decided to leave my kid behind. Which I won’t. Not ever.”  
  
For a long moment the two simply sat quietly on the swing, watching Scott moving up and down the ladder as he went about fixing the bad spot on the siding and on the roof. The day was warm and the breeze was nearly non-existent, but the wide blue line of the sky touching the long golden line of the earth was still a peaceful sight.  
  
“Have you spoken with Paul? He may be able to offer you a solution to your worries that you had not yet considered.”  
  
“I can’t expect him to watch my child for me, Doc. He’s already doing more than he should for me just by helping to pay for food and repairs now that I’m not working at the diner anymore.”  
  
“Should that not be something up to Paul? If it makes him happy to help you, is it really a chore?” Dr. Phlox looked back at Jim. “There are many people here who care deeply for you, Jim, and would like to help you in any way that you will allow them to.”  
  
Jim didn’t really want to go down this road today. It was a hard thing to believe, that someone would care for him that way when even his own family didn’t. He was even starting to second guess Spock on occasion. He had written to the Vulcan several times now, sending the letters through the Vulcan consulate in San Francisco as Sarek had told him to, asking Spock to come back for a visit, but Spock never replied. Sure he sent letters, full of things that made Jim happy. but none of them told Jim if he was going to come back to Earth anytime soon, or what he thought about the baby. Jim was starting to fear that maybe Spock hadn’t really loved him as much as he thought and that now that he was away from Jim he was realizing what a mistake he had made. Or that suddenly finding out Jim was pregnant was scaring the Vulcan off. They were both so young and Spock had a promising future ahead of him, so finding out he had a ‘ball and chain’ waiting in Iowa had to put a damper on things. Jim couldn’t really blame or hate the Vulcan if Jim’s pregnancy scared him off. Jim knew if a girl had come to him and said that she was pregnant with his child he would freak the fuck out.  
  
“Would you teach me Denobulan, Doc?”  
  
“I would be glad to, Jim. We can start now if it would please you.”  
  
Jim nodded and looked toward the side yard where Kalilia and Amin were playing tug with a scrap of rope. The female saluki was starting to round out as Jim was from her currently growing litter. She had less than a month until she should be ready to give birth. There had already been requests from other breeders and show dog owners forwarded from the Freeman’s house to Jim’s since they were staying with him. There were in fact more people asking for the puppies than there were going to be puppies. Mr. Freedman said there were likely four or five puppies. Jim was actually kind of excited to see them. He rather liked dogs and having some puppies running around the house would be nice. There was a feral barn cat that lived on the property but Jim seldom saw the Tom as it did its very best to only be out and about when Jim wasn’t. Not exactly the type of animal you could sit around and pet, not if you wanted to keep your hand anyway.  
  
“We shall start with the basic rules of sentence structure and then move onto the alphabet…”  
  
   
  
* ~ * ~ * ~ *  
  
   
  
 **1:20 pm, Kirk Family Farm**  
  
It was fairly rare anymore that a postman with actual paper mail would come by. In fact the first time Jim had actually had any paper mail of his own and he had been so excited at the time. It had been a punishment of Frank’s for driving the car off the cliff to send him to Tarsus IV but when Jim had held that thick paper envelope in his hands it had been like the universe was finally opening up for him. For the longest time after that any paper mail just left a sour bile in his mouth. He hadn’t know what the mail would be for or for whom it was being sent but Jim had known it would lead to nothing but grief and pain. Now though, now he got paper mail fairly regularly, almost twice a month in fact. All of it in the same large envelope with the crest of the Vulcan Consulate clearly on it. It was a bit early for a new letter form Spock, but the hope still surged up in Jim that Spock was finally writing to tell him if he would be coming back to Earth.  
  
The old white mail car pulled up next to Mr. Freedman’s truck and a young man of maybe 23 or 24 years stepped out. His brown hair was cut short and combed back, his white dress shirt and gray slacks were neatly pressed, and his hazel eyes were sharp as they locked on Jim where he was sitting on the swing. He approached slowly, his gaze sliding over to Kalilia who was laying with her head on Jim’s lap. The dog was watching the mailman with the an intense look, her lips pulling back to show sharp white teeth as the man stepped onto the porch next to Jim. Her protective instincts had been on high the last few weeks and strangers were making her more and more nervous, especially if Jim was there.  
  
“I have a letter for Scott Freedman. You him?”  
  
“No. He went into town ‘bout an hour ago.”  
  
The mailman looked down at the legal-sized yellow envelope and his PADD. “Well, I’ll need you to sign this for him then.”  
  
“Fine.” Jim reached out for the PADD and quickly jotted down his signature.  
  
The mailman dropped the envelope in Jim’s hands, shot another glance at Kalilia, and then nearly sprinted back to his mail car. Jim watched him leave before glancing back down at the envelope. His hands clenched the edges, crinkling the thick paper.  
  
“What do you have there?”  
  
Jim couldn’t look away from the envelope. The address in the upper corner stood out in bold blue against the yellow of the envelope.  
  
“Jim?” Dr. Phlox carefully reached out and set one hand on Jim’s shoulder before leaning down to look at the envelope. “Ah. So it finally arrived.”  
  
Jim’s head snapped up to look into the Denobulan’s face. A soft smile was resting on the doctor’s face, in place of his usually over large smile. “You knew?”  
  
“Scott asked me if I would give him a recommendation. Not that he had need of it. He is an intelligent boy and Starfleet would do quite well by taking him.”  
  
“You. Knew.”  
  
“Jim,” Dr. Phlox turned Jim to face towards him. “Scott is an intelligent young man and there is unfortunately not much that he can do here in Riverside that will keep him active and happy. Starfleet will be able to offer him a multitude of opportunities in any field that he could wish to pursue.”  
  
Jim swallowed thickly and looked back down at the envelope. “He’ll leave too.”  
  
“I understand that it will be quite a change to have him leave after he has spent so much time with you, but you must understand that he is not leaving you. He is simply moving onto his future. When you are ready you will be able to move forward to join him should you choose to.” Dr. Phlox gave Jim a warm smile. “I am sure that he would be quite pleased were you to join him in space one day.”  
  
“I can’t. How could I go into space with my baby? I can’t give the little guy up and I can’t leave him behind.”  
  
“Starfleet has provision for families. I am sure that you could request a posting where your child would be allowed to go with you. Perhaps even onto one of the larger starships like the one being built near here. It is being designed to accommodate a small number of crew with families.”  
  
“Maybe, But I still don’t see how it could work.” Jim scowled. He hadn’t heard that Starfleet was changing its policy about kids on starships.  
  
“Perhaps it would be best to give it time. First you need to decide on your course of study. Starfleet is still a way off for you in any case.”  
  
“Yeah, I guess.”  
  
“Well, if that is settled perhaps we should head inside. Dr. O’Neill will be here shortly so that we may proceed with your next check-up. If you would like we should be able to determine the child’s gender today.”  
  
“We can?”  
  
“Yes, you are far enough along now that we should get a fairly accurate view of the baby for a visual comparison of gender, but we shall also be able to scan for a DNA profile for the child now as well.”  
  
Jim swallowed, his throat suddenly thick. He would be able to see his baby, to see an image of the life that was growing inside him, the physical reminder of the first person who ever showed the slightest affection to Jim. That was awesome!  
  
Jim gave the doctor a wide smile. “I think I’d like that.”  
  
Dr. Phlox patted Jim on the shoulder and led him back inside. “Good, good. You should go change into the little gown and then come back down here that way you’ll be ready to start once she arrives.”  
  
Jim nodded and carefully lifted the dogs head off his lap so that he could stand. She whined at being moved, but let him get up, one hand going to rest against his belly as he swayed slightly. Jim scowled again as Dr. Phlox gripped his elbow to steady him and led him inside the house. The cool air inside felt good against his skin, and Jim relaxed in his grip.  
  
“Honey, I’m home,” called a voice from the driveway.  
  
Jim and Dr. Phlox turned away from the stairwell to look at the open front door where Scott stood carefully balancing several bags of groceries as he tried to kick the door shut. Scott shot Jim a wide smile, filled to near overflowing with warmth and affection.  
  
“You’ve got mail,” Jim held up the envelope still clutched tightly in his hand.  
  
Scott caught sight of the Starfleet embalm on the front and his smile drooped. “I meant to tell you, Jim.”  
  
Jim knew his smile was weak, faltering, strained as it hadn’t been since Tarsus IV. “It’s no biggie. I’m happy for you.”  
  
“Jim-“  
  
“I need to change. Dr. O’Neill will be here soon for my latest appointment.” Jim handed Dr. Phlox the letter then turned and quickly headed up the stairs. He wasn’t running away. No. It was just a tactical retreat.  
  
“Shit.” Scott slumped, nearly dropping the bags full of groceries. “I didn’t mean to hurt him.”  
  
“He knows that, my boy.” Dr. Phlox carefully took some of the bags from Scott’s hands and led him back into the kitchen. “Give him time and you shall see that he is truly quite proud of you.”  
  
“If you say so.” Scott gave the Denobulan a skeptical look. “But Jim can hold a grudge for a long time when he wants and I don’t want to leave while he’s mad at me. Especially not when he needs all the support he can get.”  
  
Dr. Phlox set the bags in his hands down upon the counter and began to carefully unpack them. “He is more upset than he would have you believe. But it is not you he is angry with but himself. He wants to go with you, to reach out and be a part of the stars again, but for now he is trapped here upon the Earth. I think that once he begins working towards a degree that he shall find his mind focused on something other than his unusual and unexpected pregnancy and that his closet friend is leaving him behind.”  
  
Scott dropped into the chair at the kitchen table, resting his face in the palms of his hands. He hated this. He hated that Jim was being denied a future that Scott knew Jim would excel at because of some freaky accident and a momentary lapse in judgment. He wanted Jim to be happy.  
  
“He shall come around, Scott.” Dr. Phlox reached back into the bag and turned to Scott and smiled. “Apple?”


End file.
